


Cosmic Realignment

by mycitruspocket



Series: Of Bikes and Brollies [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Biker Lestrade, Engagement, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Holmes Parents Not Canon Compliant, Light Angst, M/M, Meeting the Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-17 10:41:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1384546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mycitruspocket/pseuds/mycitruspocket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Engagement fluff, basically, with added smut for good measure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thanks to [Erasmus_Jones](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Erasmus_Jones/pseuds/Erasmus_Jones) for everything. She's not only a brilliant beta, she's an amazing friend and I don't know what I would do without her. For a start, this series wouldn't be what it is now without her support and friendship. Also, this part would probably have a very boring title. ;) Thank you, Sweetie.
> 
> The pretty covers are a gift from the wonderful [notluvulongtime](http://notluvulongtime.tumblr.com). Find the original post [here](http://notluvulongtime.tumblr.com/post/82474432070/happy-early-birthday-since-its-on-the-13th#) on tumblr. Thanks again, they are perfect!
> 
> The prologue is posted today - March 29th - in celebration of the first same-sex marriages in England and Wales and [WastingYourGum's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WastingYourGum/pseuds/WastingYourGum) birthday!

 

Sitting at the table in their kitchen, Mycroft watched as Gregory eagerly dug his fork into the scrambled eggs he had just cooked and grinned broadly across the table at him as he chewed. Smiling back, Mycroft’s hand sneaked its way into his waistcoat pocket where his finger brushed over the item inside, carefully hidden behind his pocket watch and wrapped into a thin layer of silver silk. Was this the moment he had waited for? No, surely not. Even though it was a Saturday morning, they both had work to do and so Mycroft took out only his pocket watch, looked at it with a regretful expression and closed it with a snap.

“I’m afraid, my dear Gregory, that I have to go. Thank you, as always, for an exquisite breakfast.”

“Nah, there’s nothing exquisite about scrambled eggs, love.”

”I meant your company, but the eggs were delicious as well.”

The smile that spread over his Gregory’s face would guide Mycroft through the day, no matter how stressful it might become. He would have loved to wait for his partner to finish and hated that it was he that had to leave the breakfast table early on most occasions. With a sigh, Mycroft rose while sipping at his nearly empty tea cup and went over to place a kiss on top of Greg’s hair, inhaling the scent deeply.

“I am truly sorry to leave you so soon. Will I see you tonight?”

“Yeah, so long as nothing else has appeared on my bloody desk. The leaning tower of paperwork waiting for me is enough already. But just so you know, I won’t let you run away tomorrow morning. Breakfast in bed, and I’m going to tie you to the bed if necessary.”

“Now that is something to look forward to. Until tonight, Gregory.”

Before Mycroft could turn to the door, Greg was out of his chair and gripping him by the lapels of his grey suit jacket pulled him in close. He stared him straight in the eye as he sealed their lips in an unhurried kiss, as if they had all the time in the world. Not for the first time Mycroft wondered how this man could manage to make time seem meaningless.

“I will be waiting for you.”

The words were whispered against his lips, full of promises and suddenly the motivation of starting the day as early as possible so he wouldn’t get back too late was almost overwhelming. With one last peck on Gregory’s warm lips, Mycroft flew out of the door and into the waiting car that drove off immediately. Once inside he fell back into the seat, closing his eyes and remembering the minty scent of the soft, silvery hair that had still been a little damp from the shower. His hand wandered into his waistcoat pocket again, this time taking out the item he’d had on his person for such a long time, but just hadn’t found the right time to finally give it to the person he knew it rightly belonged to.

It was a ring. A golden ring his beloved grandmother had given him a few days before she passed away. She had been weak, but her mind was as sharp as ever, as she laid it into his palm and closed his hand around it with shaky fingers. He could still hear her words, telling him that she wanted him to keep his grandfather’s ring, that she wanted him to find somebody who would take as good care of him as her husband had taken care of her, that she wanted Mycroft to be happy and not alone.

“ _Sherlock will always have you to look after him and will gain the ability to make friends one day. But I know you Mikey, you will spend your life alone if you don’t open your eyes and stop living in the shadows._ “

It had taken him more than fifteen years to follow her advice and step into the light, yet the ring still wasn’t decorating Gregory’s finger.

They had never spoken directly about marriage; Mycroft just assumed Gregory wouldn’t want to jump into another commitment like that a few years after his divorce. Wasn’t it too early to end the first year of their relationship by asking Greg for his hand in marriage anyway? Wouldn’t it look more like an act of possessiveness than of love? Damn his insecurities in such matters.

Mycroft found it quite embarrassing just how long he’d hidden the ring, how long it had waited for Mycroft to finally find that someone his grandmother wanted to see at his side so badly. He had taken the ring to the jeweller two days after they got together, since then the thin gold band had been ready to slip onto Gregory’s finger and stay there forever.

Mycroft watched out of the window as London flew by as fast as the past year had, and he thought back on everything that had happened. They had established so much in so little time. Mycroft had met Gregory’s daughter Susannah and it still surprised him how quickly the two of them had bonded, how fast he had locked her into his heart as if she was his own blood. He found himself thinking about her as a father, but wasn’t sure if it was even appropriate to declare that openly to a girl who already had two loving parents.

Furthermore, Gregory had moved into the London townhouse with him. Mycroft, who had found the thought of sharing the only place where he could truly be himself with someone else absurd before, had never been happier. It had been six months now and even Susannah had her own room and visited frequently. Finally Mycroft understood the sentiment when people were glad to come back home after a long day at work or an exhausting business trip. His house even smelled different, it smelled like  _coming home_.

At Christmas Gregory had introduced him to his mother and she had welcomed Mycroft into the family so heart-warmingly, that he still couldn’t quite get his head around how content that encounter had made him feel. She had given him a self-knitted scarf with an elegant, dark green and burgundy coloured pattern, and he had loved to wear it in the wintertime. Mycroft had never worn any kind of knitted accessories before, but this one made him feel extra warm inside during the coldest days of the year.

Mycroft’s mother had been away over the last Christmas period, she had spent a few weeks with a dear friend in Rio de Janeiro because she wanted to flee the British winter, but instead lamented on and on about the insufferable heat in Brazil later on. Mycroft had been relieved, she knew about the ring and its purpose and somehow, even if it was a stubborn way of thinking, Mycroft didn’t want to bring Gregory along without him already wearing it. That was when Mycroft had started to constantly carry it around in his waistcoat pocket, waiting for the right moment that always past away before he could bring up the courage.

Maybe Mycroft should just give the ring to Gregory as a token of his undying love, not as an engagement ring and free of any commitment. That idea had crossed his mind a few times already, but he had always discarded it because it never felt right. Out of the two Holmes brothers he was the traditional one, and even if he had spent most of his life believing he was better off alone, now that Gregory was part of his life he wanted him to be an official part of it in every way possible.

Mycroft was dragged out of his thoughts when he noticed the car had stopped and was now parked in front of his office. The driver had opened the privacy screen already, reminding him that they had arrived.

“My apologies, Timothy. I was lost in thoughts.”

He folded the little piece of silk neatly around the ring and placed it back into its hiding place.

“Are you in need of any assistance today, sir?”

“I will need your service for my two o’clock appointment, thank you.”

“I know, sir. But I thought you might be in need of advice in a personal matter, if you don’t mind me offering, sir.”

“Oh. Indeed I am, you know I always value your opinion, Timothy.”

Timothy has been in his service for over 15 years, he clearly was one of the few persons in Mycroft’s life he trusted completely.

“Go for it, sir. He’s the best thing that ever happened to you.”

They shared a knowing smile and with a short nod in Timothy’s direction, Mycroft exited the car with a light heart and walked over to the entrance with a swing in his step. Yes, he would indeed “go for it”.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a look at all the other lovely fics written for this special day [here](http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/sfs:-well-groomed) on tumblr.


	2. Home Sweet Home

__

 

_~ A few weeks later ~_

 

It had officially been the worst week he’d had in years.

Greg slammed the front door behind him and kicked off his shoes carelessly, leaving them where they fell in the hallway. He knew it was a bad habit and it probably drove Mycroft crazy because he always tidied up behind him, so he tried to keep the habit to the times he wasn’t home. Greg supposed Mycroft could come home at any time, but it seemed unlikely. The longer they’d been together, whenever Mycroft had to go and save the world he stayed in touch as much as he could, and Greg usually got at least a text telling him when to expect him.

There had been no text, no mail and no phone call today.

Shrugging off his jacket, Greg let it fall onto the floor. His shoes could do with some company down there after all, he thought as he made his way to the kitchen. Oh, the kitchen. He hadn’t had time to clean it up for days and that was something even he disliked, despite not being one of the tidiest people. He’d have to sort it soon. Just not now, tomorrow maybe. He shouldn’t have given Mrs. Bradley, the housekeeper, the week off, but he just felt uncomfortable having her around when Mycroft left town for an indefinite time. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, she was a nice and uncomplicated person, about his age and well informed about their schedule so that they didn’t even meet that often. But coming home to welcoming lights or familiar sounds just to find out it was her instead of Mycroft, was something he wanted to avoid in the future. And he certainly didn’t need more disappointment this week.

After grabbing a bottle of beer from the fridge he sat down at the little kitchen table and reached around to turn on the radio that stood on the sideboard behind him.

He hated the silence.

Greg had asked his daughter to come around last weekend, but Sue had regretfully declined. She had some very important exams coming up and knew she would be much more distracted with him than if she stayed at her mum’s.

John was down with the flu, which was also the reason Sherlock had been even more insufferable than usual. Without a nice evening at the pub with John for a couple of hours, away from the bloody case or an evening spent at Baker Street, the week dragged. Yet Greg had found the time to make and deliver a pot of soup to Sherlock and John. Greg worried they might actually starve with Sherlock in charge and having absolutely no idea how to deal with the situation. He’d dropped off the soup, but he hadn’t stayed; he had felt so exhausted that he was sure he would catch it too. So he was left at home with a dirty kitchen and no company.

He stood, turned his back to the mess and climbed up the stairs to the bedroom, followed by the music that still played in the kitchen.

It was horribly silent again when Greg entered the bedroom, so he turned the stereo on and putting aside his beer he stared at the enormous bed. The enormous - and very empty - bed. Sleeping alone in it wasn’t nice, it made him feel lost with so much space and no Mycroft around to share it with. Not something he wanted to deal with right then, so he retrieved his beer, but didn’t switch off the stereo when he walked out of the room. However, the silence overwhelmed him once more on his way to his rooms on the fourth floor of the house. After locating the remote control on the cluttered coffee table, he immediately switched the telly on to some random channel before he dropped down onto his old, but extremely comfortable sofa. He stood his beer bottle on the floor next to him, careful not to knock it over when he pulled his hand back to rest over his stomach.

He should have brought a fridge first, not the coffee table. It would have been much more practical and it would have a door to hide the mess, Greg thought before he drifted into an unquiet sleep.

*

Before Gregory had moved in with him, Mycroft had never noticed how long the journey from airport to home was. He couldn’t even find the patience to read the newspaper and checked his watch every minute. Although he hoped that his Gregory would be fast asleep, Mycroft wished away the time until he got to see him again. His plane had landed past midnight and if he had told him about his return, Gregory would have stayed up to wait for him, and the man needed his sleep. However, Mycroft had become used to regular contact during their time apart and not informing his partner of his plans grated at him. He had learned that Gregory worried too much when he didn’t hear from him, he didn’t need details only to know that Mycroft was well. Tonight, however, he wanted to surprise him by just slipping into the bed beside him and was anticipating being welcomed under warm sheets. Sleeping alone wasn’t nearly as satisfying as falling asleep with his lover’s scent clouding his sleepy senses.

When he finally arrived on their doorstep and let himself in, Mycroft felt immediately at home when he saw Gregory’s shoes and jacket laying on the floor. It was one of those bad habits that he couldn’t help but still find much too endearing to be truly annoying. Mycroft hung the jacket up on the rack and shoving the shoes aside headed for the kitchen where he could hear the faint sound of music.

Instead of Gregory he only found the radio playing to the empty room, entertaining the dirty dishes, pots and glasses that were scattered across the worktop. He turned it off with a sigh and left the room. Mycroft had known from the few texts and short phone calls they shared over the past days, that the week had been stressful for his partner. Seeing the state of their kitchen only confirmed that his arranging for them both to have a few days off had been a very good idea. Pleased with himself and anticipating how Greg might react when he told him the good news, he went upstairs where he hoped to find him already asleep, probably still in his work clothes.

Mycroft was desperately disappointed when he found the bedroom also void of Gregory’s presence. He switched off the folk music coming from the stereo, it was much too cheerful for his sinking mood. Gregory must have felt very lonely to take one of Susannah’s CDs from her room. Now there was no mistaking where he would find him; Gregory didn’t use his rooms very often, but he practically lived there when Mycroft wasn’t home. He had the distinct impression that Greg’s avoidance of their bedroom in his absence was not at all positive.

Nervously he fingered at his grandfather’s ring in his waistcoat pocket as he climbed the stairs. It had become a habit over the last few months, a habit that gave him reassurance, but also served to remind him day to day of the ring’s purpose. Unfortunately though, it did not appear that it would fulfil its destiny quite yet.  

 


	3. I Know Him So Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The sight that greeted Mycroft when he entered the room was much as he had expected; though it didn’t alleviate any of his desperation. Under the dim, constantly flickering light cast from the telly, Greg lay on his front with one hand dangling from the sofa onto the floor as he snored quietly._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who misses our lovely Sue, I've written a little Sue-centered fic last week for a dear friend's birthday. Read it [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1483255). It's part of a [whole series of little fics](http://archiveofourown.org/series/41605) written in the Of Bikes and Brollies universe, enjoy.
> 
> I've nicked the title of this chapter from my personal mystradian motivational hymn: [I Know Him So Well](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8az1gFoZp4c) preformed by John Barrowman & Daniel Boys.

 

The sight that greeted Mycroft when he entered the room was much as he had expected; though it didn’t alleviate any of his desperation. Under the dim, constantly flickering light cast from the telly, Greg lay on his front with one hand dangling from the sofa onto the floor as he snored quietly. It was a sound that Mycroft had always believed would annoy him immensely, but after spending only one night in this man’s company he had difficulties dealing with the silence that surrounded him during lonely nights.

Standing in the doorway and looking down at his lover’s sleeping form, Mycroft debated whether he should let Greg sleep or wake him so they could spend the night at each other’s side. The longing for the latter made him walk across the wooden floorboards, carefully avoiding empty glasses and pieces of clothing to kneel down in front of the sofa. He knew Greg wouldn’t be pleased to be found in such a state, even if Mycroft had never dared comment on the tidiness of his room.

Searching for the remote control, Mycroft muted the television and took Greg’s hand in his own. He brought it to his lips and kissed it softly, savouring the moment of their reunion. At the touch Gregory stirred, the snoring dissolved into a groan and Mycroft reached out to gently stroke his thumb over a stubbled cheek. Leaning in closer to whisper his dearest’s name, he could smell smoke alongside stale beer. The realisation that Greg had apparently started smoking again after they had stopped together almost two years ago, hit him hard. However, that was not an urgent issue for the agenda, so he pushed it to the back of his mind and concentrated fully on the rousing of his Gregory. 

When a familiar voice made its way through his drowsy senses, Greg could feel a welcoming warmth seeping into his skin. Slowly he opened his eyes and raised his head from the cushions in search of Mycroft. Blinking a few times he saw tender eyes looking down at him, concern written all over the face that for most people was nothing more than an emotionless mask. Greg panicked slightly, almost certain that he’d been rumbled for smoking again. Still in his wrinkled work clothes, without a refreshing shower and reeking of ale and smoke he must be quite a depressing sight right now. However, Mycroft was still stroking his cheek and adoration seemed to replace the concern.

“Hey, My. Why didn’t you say you were coming home, love? I would have…”

Greg was abruptly cut off with a soft kiss and suddenly realised how much he had missed the mere presence of this man, just being in his company made him feel so much more alive that it was scary sometimes.

“You would have done what exactly, Gregory? Tidy the house to conceal how exhausting the last days have been? Showering away evidence of how stressed out you really are? For what purpose, my dear?”

“As if I could hide anything from you, Mr. Know-It-All. No, but it would have been nice, you know, for me to make myself feel a little bit more attractive.”

Mycroft knew Gregory was attractive to him in any and every state he could imagine and just as he was about to argue vociferously against the self depreciating words, a sudden yelp from said attractive man on the sofa startled him.

“Fuck, my back!” Greg winced as he tried to sit up and his hand came up to rub against his side. “Urgh, and pins and needles in my arm.”

Greg waved his hand around erratically in a desperate attempt to get the blood flowing again and closed his eyes in silent agony. When he opened them again, he saw Mycroft’s lips curling up in slight amusement.

“Come to bed, Gregory. You had a long day and you deserve an equally long and restful night.”

“Yeah, just say it, My. You think your old man is now officially too old to sleep on the sofa.”

“No, such a thought never crossed my mind. I didn’t…”

“Of course you didn’t, sorry. It really wasn’t a very nice week… Wait, what time is it? I have to get up in a few hours anyway. You go and get comfortable, I’ll mange here for a bit longer so my alarm won’t wake you up again.”

“Gregory, what I wanted to say is that you don’t have to get up in the morning. I arranged for us to take a trip to the country house for the next few days. We haven’t been there lately and I know how much you enjoy the fresh air and a ride on your bike in the summer.”

Greg’s heart sank; he’d always worried that one day, Mycroft would abuse his power and interfere with his working schedule, the enthusiastic smile on Mycroft’s face didn’t make it easier to refuse the well-intended offer. His hand was feeling normal again so he raised it to stroke back the rebellious curl on Mycroft’s forehead that he adored so much.

“My, I know this whole thing wasn’t mean to be rude, but you can’t do that. I hope you understand that something like that is just not on. I want to be a good boss for my team, and not the boss whose boyfriend makes up holidays out of nothing.”

Despite Gregory’s serious expression, Mycroft felt extremely proud that he knew this man so well. Even though there were situations in which he was unable to read him at all, sometimes he could actually predict Gregory’s exact choice of words.

“I knew this would be your line of defence, Detective Inspector. But what if said team is seriously concerned about their boss and wished he would take a few days off so he won’t fall asleep on his desk?”

“How… never mind.”

“It was Sherlock, Gregory. He told me they were speaking behind your back, that they were worried about your wellbeing and general health because you work so hard and doggedly. So my brother, well he ordered me to take you away for a short time so you may recover from the stress of the horrors of your latest case. He wants me to make sure of that, he said he needs you to function normally again as soon as possible. John’s sickness obviously made him realise how unfavourable such a situation is for him. At least that is what he wanted me to believe, but he cares. We both know he does.”

“Oh you two shouldn’t be allowed to talk unsupervised… My, regardless who cares or not, even if the case is wrapped up, I still have a lot of paperwork to do. You know how it works.”

“Yes, I do know how it works. You are an excellent superior Gregory, don’t misunderstand me, but there is one skill we both lack terribly: the art of delegation. We both want to carry all the responsibility, we want everything, down to the last detail to go through our hands at least once. We don’t want anyone else to get involved because we want to manage it all, although we have extraordinary, well trained teams at hand. We are not much alike, you and I, but this trait we have in common. Please, accompany me. I’ve missed you.”

Damn, Mycroft was right. Sally had said almost the same things to him this afternoon. She wasn’t a person to speak behind a person’s back, so she had come to him directly and offered to take over so he could go home and catch up some sleep. But of course, as always, he had told her not to worry because he would manage the chaos somehow. Then he’d done just that, with the help of three more cups of coffee and a few cigarettes, but now he wasn’t so sure if he could do it again in only a few hours time. Especially not without the unhealthy little helpers…

“You manipulative bastard,” Greg laughed and slapped Mycroft lightly on the shoulder, all the tension and the stress already leeching away at the thought of spending a few relaxing days with the man he loved. “You know I can’t say no when you put it like that. And looking at me with your eyes all beautiful and innocent, that’s just not fair.”

A triumphant smile spread over Mycroft’s face and Greg leant forward, grabbing his face in both hands and kissing him deeply. 

“Yeah, let’s go to bed,” Greg whispered after breaking the slow kiss a while later, rasping his rough chin across Mycroft’s smooth jaw line.


	4. Missing You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Greg couldn’t tell what exactly woke him, the movements on the other side of the bed or the small noises, but as soon as he opened eyes he couldn’t care less. Mycroft lay on his back, his pyjama shirt unbuttoned, and he looked at him, eyes wide and filled with lust. The apologetic smile on his lips wasn’t very convincing mixed with the unmistakeable motions that were going on under the duvet."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tina Turner's [Missing You](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5qutvO52Too) has been my inspiration for this chapter, as well as a lovely week with my dear friend Erasmus_Jones.

 

 

When Greg finally made it to the bedroom, gently guided by Mycroft’s hand, he all but fell onto the covers and felt like he never wanted to get up again. Since he still had a strong grip on Mycroft’s hand, unable to let go somehow, the man had to place one knee on the mattress and chuckled softly.

“My dearest Gregory, if you would kindly allow me to get up for two more minutes? I will be all yours afterwards.”

Greg only held on tighter and huffed petulantly into the pillows.

“But I just got you back, you can’t expect me to let you go away again so soon. I haven’t even finished missing you properly.”

Mycroft smiled down fondly at his sleepy partner, he adored his demanding and almost childlike behaviour when he was drowsy. And this man called  _him_  a drama queen? Leaning in to kiss the back of Gregory’s head he extracted his hand carefully and stood.

“I won’t be long, just next door in the changing room, my dear.”

“Too far away,” Greg managed to mumble, but when he tilted his head, Mycroft was already gone. When he gathered enough strength to crawl under the duvet, he realized that he was still in his work clothes and began removing most of it. He was far too exhausted so he, uncharacteristically, ended up leaving his vest and boxers on. Flipping down onto his stomach he wiggled until he was lying comfortably in the middle of the bed and tried to fight the sleep a little longer so he could fall asleep with his arms wrapped around Mycroft who was annoyingly far away right now.

“Still missing you. It doesn’t get better.”

Mycroft stripped down to his underwear and into his pyjamas as quickly as he could manage. Generally and especially in summer, Mycroft preferred to sleep nude as did Gregory. Today however, Mycroft’s body was still used to Japanese time where it would soon turn midday, so it was unlikely that he would fall asleep very soon and after being away for so long, he wasn’t sure how well he could restrain his bodily needs when lying naked in bed with the man he had missed so much.

“I share your pain, Gregory, but I do hope you will survive another minute without my immediate presence.”

“Can’t promise you that, love. It’s getting worse again, actually.”

Mycroft’s heart fluttered in his chest, sometimes it was still difficult for him to process the amount of affection Gregory showed towards him. Knowing there was someone at home who couldn’t wait for his return, who missed him when he was gone, was still an overwhelming feeling. Folding his suit into the laundry bag, he removed his pocket watch and his grandfather’s ring from the waistcoat. The watch found its usual place in his jewellery box, right on top of the little secret compartment where he always hid the ring. With hurried steps he made his way back to the bedroom where Gregory was already breathing calm and peacefully, but as soon as Mycroft sat down on the bed a hand grabbed his sleeve and pulled at him impatiently. Shuffling back until he felt Greg’s body pressed against his back, he settled down with a contend sigh.

“‘Bout time, My.”

Greg flung an arm over Mycroft so he could pull him even closer to his chest and tangled their legs together. Nuzzling his nose into the nape of Mycroft’s neck he placed a light kiss above the pyjama collar.

“Night, love.”

“Good night, Gregory.”

Before Greg’s thoughts became dreams, he wondered why there was still something that didn’t feel right, even though Mycroft was right there with him. It was a feeling that had been buried under all the case related stress and the overshadowing need of wanting to see Mycroft again. Now that those problems were solved for the time being, the somewhat familiar feeling was surfacing again. In his overworked and sleep deprived state he could only interpret it in a more melancholy way than it probably was, but still. Something was missing, the feel of something he had before but lost somehow. Whatever it was, he knew that he wanted it back. Although right now, sleep had priority and thoughts like that didn’t help. Maybe it was just overwrought nerves talking and nothing serious, so he buried his nose in the space between Mycroft’s neck and the pillow and let the much needed sleep finally take over.

*

Greg couldn’t tell what exactly woke him, the movements on the other side of the bed or the small noises, but as soon as he opened his eyes he couldn’t care less. Mycroft lay on his back, his pyjama shirt unbuttoned, and he looked at him, eyes wide and filled with lust. The apologetic smile on his lips wasn’t very convincing mixed with the unmistakeable motions that were going on under the duvet.

It must be very early in the morning, the sun had barely risen and the soft light that shone through the window made Mycroft’s skin look even paler, almost angelic. With a groan Greg pushed the duvet aside and straddled Mycroft’s legs where his pyjama bottoms were pushed down to his knees, watching captivated how Mycroft’s hand ran over his hard cock in a steady, slow rhythm.

“You could have waited, you know,” Greg breathed against his lover’s mouth as he leaned in, brushing their lips together softly.

“I am terribly sorry, but I really couldn’t. I… It has been a while, Gregory. I couldn’t focus, my mind wouldn’t quieten without you and… I’m sorry I woke you up, I didn’t intend to…”

“Shhh my love, I’m here now. My week hasn’t been very satisfying either, so keep going and let me look at you.”

Propped up on one hand, Greg stroked the other through the soft hair on Mycroft’s chest and further down to his stomach. His lips followed the trail until he dipped his tongue into Mycroft’s belly button, who arched up into the touch and moaned deeply, the lazy stokes on his cock speeding up.

It really hadn’t been Mycroft’s intention to wake Gregory up, he just wanted to get the pent up tension out of his system and had hoped to find a few hours of sleep afterwards, before he could indulge in some morning activity with his Gregory. Although he certainly didn’t mind the attention he was currently receiving.

Gregory’s teasing tongue had travelled to the inside of his thighs now and when eager hands were pushing down his pyjama bottoms, he opened his legs wider. Suddenly Mycroft felt something slick between his fingers that fondled his balls and the realization that Gregory was licking between them made him thrust into the direction of the touch.

“Hmmm so beautiful, so sensitive,” Greg mumbled before he lapped over Mycroft’s fist up to the tip of his cock where he lingered a bit, teasing the glans with flicks of his tongue on every downward stroke. Hovering above Mycroft, Greg took in the whole picture; the man was writhing on the duvet, face and chest flushed, eyes closed and then there was the practised movement of Mycroft’s hands, designed to make him come as quick as possible.

“Not so fast love, don’t come just yet. You couldn’t wait to get your hands on yourself but now, let me catch up.”

Greg sat back on his heels and stripped off his vest and pants, then watched when after three more stokes and with an extremely rough groan, Mycroft let go of his cock, pushed his fists into the mattress and his whole body tensed and arched up. It looked like he would come nevertheless, but he didn’t. The scene was so erotic that Greg’s mind began to spin and he fell forwards, hands braced on either side of Mycroft’s face and he kissed him passionately.

Panting, Mycroft grabbed for Gregory’s biceps, if not his cock, he had to squeeze something else. He had been so close and letting go of himself had cost him nearly all the self control, but there was still a little left. However, the kiss soothed him but only up to the point where he noticed that Gregory’s right hand was now busy pulling at his own cock. Looking up at him he was greeted by half lidded eyes and kiss swollen lips and Mycroft had to bite his own lip to stop himself from reaching down. Instead he stroked his hands along Gregory’s sides and down over his bum, grabbing two handfuls of luscious flesh he arched up again, knowing exactly what this did to his lover. He moaned lustfully and rolled his head backwards, exposing his neck that was immediately attacked with wet kisses and little nips.

Between kisses, hushed whimpers escaped Gregory’s mouth and his thighs started to shake, he was getting close. Raising his head, Mycroft sucked at Greg’s earlobe and whispered breathlessly into his ear, as innocently as possible in his current extremely turned on state.

“May I touch myself again?”

“Fuck… Yes! God yes please…”

When Mycroft’s hands flew to his groin, Greg let his head hang lose between his shoulders, he needed to see, needed to take in how these elegant fingers worked on the beautiful long cock. He lost his own rhythm but watching was much more important right now; how Mycroft’s muscles flexed and trembled, how his balls grew even tighter, how fast his heart was beating in his chest. Licking once over the left nipple and making Mycroft shiver with lust, he shuffled downwards, brought his lips to the base of his cock and sucked wet kisses onto it while Mycroft pulled desperately at the top end, choking out broken moans.

Greg sped up his own interrupted strokes and when he pressed his tongue against the sensitive spot behind Mycroft’s balls, he knew his lover’s orgasm was fast approaching.

“Come on love, let me watch you come.”

Gregory’s lips brushed his tight balls as he mumbled encouragements and moaned shamelessly between Mycroft’s legs. The vibration of his voice was just that bit too much and after one more stoke Mycroft came so hard that a drop of semen landed on his chin. The syllables of Gregory’s name tumbled from his lips in a hoarse cry when he saw him crawling up his trembling body, sucking away the wet spot on his chin as he came only a few seconds later and pressed their lips together in a desperate attempt to get closer.

*

They had fallen asleep just after Mycroft had managed to get most of their mixed releases off his chest with a handful of tissues. When he awoke and Gregory was still fast asleep, he extracted himself from his lover’s arms as carefully as possible to have a long, hot shower.

Feeling refreshed and fit for the day he went downstairs to make himself a cup of tea and retrieve his suitcase from the hall where he’d abandoned it the night before. Back in the bedroom he made his way into the dressing room silently and took out the gift the Japanese delegation had given him. A kimono that reached down to his heels, probably a little too long but he liked the feeling of the fine silk brushing his legs and feet and he swirled it around a bit just because he could. The floral pattern was beautiful, red and golden tones with cranes flying in between blooming blossoms. Mycroft had loved it instantly and couldn’t resist buying one for Gregory as well. He took the gift wrapped gown from the suitcase and placed it onto the sideboard in the bathroom where Gregory would find it later. He also took out the book he was currently reading, but hadn’t had much time during his business trip. Slipping back into bed, on Gregory’s side because the man had curled up on the side that usually belonged to Mycroft, he began reading, felling utterly content with himself and the rest of the world.

After a while Greg stirred and shifted beside him, groaning and blinking into the room now filled with sunlight. Greg lifted himself up just a bit so he could fall right down onto Mycroft's chest again, burrowing his face into the kimono to shield his eyes from the light.

“Hmm, new. S’nice,” Greg mumbled into the silk and Mycroft laid the book into his lap to hug Gregory close.

“I knew you would like it, yours is waiting for you in the bathroom.”

Greg chuckled softly, raising his head to look at him.

“You don’t have to bring me a present every time, you know.”

“But I want to.”

“And I love them all. Thanks, My.”

After a sweet kiss Greg settled down against Mycroft’s side, head resting on his shoulder.

“What are you reading? Looks a lot shorter than the stuff you normally read.”

“Tolkien’s Hobbit, if you must know.”

“What, seriously? But that’s a children’s book!”

“You are quite correct, my dear. Susannah wanted to watch the new film on our next film night and I wanted to read the story again before that. I loved the book when I was a child, even read it to Sherlock when he was still too young to understand it.”

“Yeah, I can just picture you two. Sue loves it too, actually she was the one reading it to me because she wanted to practice.”

There was a short pause while both men reminisced about their pasts until Greg suddenly giggled a bit embarrassed.

“Are you quite all right, Gregory?”

“Yeah, it’s just… I’ve always wondered if the ring on your finger was something like the rings of power. Actually, you’ve never told me about it.”

“No, I haven’t. Do you want to know?”

“If you want to tell me, yes. It’s fine if you don‘t. I bet there are a lot more undiscovered mysteries about you, one more doesn’t really matter.”

“Even if it might disappoint you, but I have to tell you that you already discovered almost all of them. However, this one is special. It’s my grandmother’s ring and I’ve been wearing it since the day she died.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It makes me feel like she is still a part of my life.”

Now would be one of those moments Mycroft had waited for. The most perfect opportunity that had ever presented itself if he was being honest, but the other ring was in the dressing room and he didn’t want to interrupt his Gregory who was stroking his thumb over the ring on his hand, taking in yet another intimate detail almost no one else knew about him. Of course Mycroft didn’t necessarily need the ring to ask the question, but he had the feeling he needed its presence to have the courage to actually speak the words out loud. He had already asked Gregory in his mind so many times before, and now he did it again, but there was no answer. Only the sound of a wet kiss placed on the silk right over his pounding heart as Gregory finally pushed himself off the bed to walk into the bathroom. And the moment was gone.


	5. Perfect Match

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lovely comment from [EverydayClumsy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/EverydayClumsy/pseuds/EverydayClumsy) inspired a part of this chapter, it wasn't planned but I think it fits perfectly. Thanks for the inspiration! :)

 

“Um, don’t you think this is a bit too short?”

Greg looked down at himself sceptically as he walked back into the bedroom. He had put on the new kimono that Mycroft had brought him from Japan after a refreshing shower and the damn but pretty thing didn’t even reach his knees.

“Absolutely not,” Mycroft retorted quickly, raising an eyebrow. He lay his book aside and stood from the bed, his kimono resting loosely on the top of his feet did a good job hiding his endless legs. Although Greg had to admit, the sight of Mycroft’s elegant toes peeking out from under the burgundy silk had its own sexy appeal. Still, hiding those legs from his view whilst having his own on display like that, was just a bit mean.

“And yours is a bit too long, actually.” Greg crossed his arms in front of his chest as Mycroft’s eyes travelled slowly up his bare legs, smiling approvingly.

“Then we match perfectly, my dear.”

Mycroft closed the distance between them, stroking his hands over Gregory’s silk clad shoulders, down his sides until his fingers could slip under the seam of the gown.

“You are a perv,” Greg chuckled, wrapping his arms around Mycroft’s waist.

“And you like it.”

“God help me, yes I do.”

*

The drive to the country house was a quiet one. Mycroft had to wrap up a few last things for work before he could finally allow himself to slip into the appropriate holiday mood and swiftly typed mail after mail on his laptop.

Greg watched the world pass by outside the window, the sky was cloudy and he could only hope it would clear up once they were out of town, he could really use some sunshine right now. Watching the city flying by he realised that it was the first time in days when he could truly relax; no press appointments, no case related mysteries to solve, no paperwork to procrastinate over. But somehow he couldn’t, not really. He should already feel more than relaxed after the nice morning and the prospect of a few lovely days with Mycroft had made him feel so much better yesterday. Why was the melancholic feeling still lingering inside of him? Why hadn’t it gone away as soon as Mycroft got back? What else but inhaling his partners scent could he do to make it vanish? He tried hard to find out what this was all about while he listened to the steady and calming rhythm of Mycroft’s fingers tapping swiftly away on the keyboard. He closed his eyes only for a moment because the rush of the traffic was unsettling, but he awoke an hour later because the sun was tingling on his skin. Sunshine always cheered him up but the lack of it hadn’t been the cause of the strange mood. It was still there, even when Mycroft smiled at him fondly when he tried to stretch away the uneasy feeling.

Maybe it was the cigarettes. Of course it had been a stupid idea to buy a pack after he’d made it so far, but its presence in his pocket still felt very reassuring. He knew that only one cigarette was left and he didn’t intend to buy another pack, but the thought of breathing in the hot smoke one last time distracted him for the rest of the journey.

When they finally arrived, Greg lifted their bags from the boot and nodded once to Timothy, giving him the sign to drive off to the place wherever chauffeurs like him went after being dismissed for the moment. He shifted on his feet, nervously fingering the cigarette lighter in his trouser pocket.

“Um… You go ahead, My. I’m gonna just….”

“Have one last cigarette? I recall this is the 25th _last cigarette_ you want to smoke since we have known each other. Surely you would like to celebrate this anniversary?”

“Don’t be mean, you know I haven’t smoked for two years. Last week was just… I really needed it to function and I promise you I won’t buy another pack after this.”

“I know, Gregory.” Mycroft stepped closer and kissed his forehead. “Take your time, my dear, and enjoy the sun. You look paler than usual, which is never a good sign.”

*

Mycroft stood at the bedroom window, watching from behind the half drawn curtains how Greg strolled through the backyard smoking, then went into the garage from where he emerged minutes later having finished his cigarette. For a moment Mycroft thought he would come to join him inside, but then Greg saw a sunny spot on the lawn and went over to lie down on the grass and stare intently at the ever changing pictures in the soft clouds. Mycroft almost jumped when his phone chimed in his jacket pocket.

“Hello Susannah, how lovely to hear from you.”

“Hey M! Papa texted me, I’m glad you managed to convince him to take a few days off, he really needs it.”

“Me too, Susannah darling. Me too.” His eyes were still fixed on Gregory and filled with concern.

“I still feel bad that I couldn’t be there for him last weekend because of the stupid exams…”

“Your education is important and you know that he understands and approves of your ambitious decisions. Speaking of exams, how did it go?”

“Oh, history and English literature went great! Thanks again for your help, discussing it with you, even if it was just over Skype, helped a lot.”

“You would have excelled even without my help, I’m sure.”

“Doesn’t matter, it was fun!”

“Yes, it was indeed.” Mycroft smiled into the distance, thinking about the Skype conference they had during his time in Japan. “However, I’m still deeply sorry that I’m unable to help you with the subject where you needed my help most. Your maths exam is on Monday, if I remember correctly?”

“Ah well, it’s not your fault that I just don’t get it. I will have to try and understand at least a few bloody basics during this weekend.”

“Does that mean you don’t have other plans?”

Suddenly an idea popped into Mycroft’s mind, a plan forming so quickly he felt almost reckless. He was seldom this spontaneous, but something told him that his hastily wrought plan was sound. He was going to have to act boldly and with speed in matters his faith wavered in, at least it would add impetus to the issue of his hesitance to _go-for-it_ as it were. It was obviously something he required or he would have broached the subject already.

“Nope, just me and boring equations. You two will have to have enough fun for me too.”

“Not if we can find a way for you to join us.”

“M, I’m sure you could just snap your fingers and cancel the exam, but I’m not sure it would solve my problem.”

“Since you’re your father’s daughter, I didn’t even consider it an option. I happen to know a mathematician who would, unlike me, be able to _get down to your level_ , as you so eloquently put it.”

“Wow really? I mean I tried working with a tutor once and it didn’t work out so well. But I’d definitely try it again if you can recommend someone. Who is it?”

“My mother.”

There was no response, but Mycroft was sure the phone connection remained intact.

“Susannah? Are you all right?”

“Um yeah but… As far as I know, you haven’t even introduced papa to her, so I’m just a tiny bit worried whether she’d be OK with giving me some last minute maths tutoring.”

“No, I haven’t introduced Gregory to her, but that is entirely my fault and has nothing to do with your father or with my mother.”

“Aww, you’re nervous, aren’t you? So sweet. Don’t worry M, papa will behave.”

“That, my darling Susannah, is the very last thing I worry about.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Mycroft pinched the bridge of his nose, why had he thought this would be a good idea? Yes, because he needed the push, otherwise he would probably keep the ring hidden for the rest of his life. Having made the decision to ask hadn’t helped him actually do so after all.

“The problem is that there is something I wanted to give your father before we visited together. However, I have not yet mustered the courage to do so.”

“Mycroft, are you telling me that you’ve got him a ring? Because if not, you better go and get one right this instant because I’m starting to get really excited over here!”

“Yes, I fear that's exactly what I wanted to tell you. Also, that your approval would help boost my courage immensely.” He took a deep breath, saying it out loud to Sue was only the first of many important steps to follow. “Do I have your approval, Susannah, to ask your father for his hand in marriage?”

There was silence at the other end of the line before Mycroft had to hold the phone away from his ear because Susannah’s high pitched scream of joy was a little too loud for his sensitive ears. However, it also made his heart feel a lot lighter.

“Yes! Yesyesyes! Oh Mycroft, how long have you thought about asking him? It doesn’t sound like you just came up with it.”

“Much too long, Susannah darling.”

“Waiting for the right moment, eh?”

“You could say that, yes,” Mycroft sighed. He’d already figured out that it wasn’t going to work this way, at least not for him.

“I think it’s a myth really, just think about it. I have no experience in that matter whatsoever, but think about what you would say if he just came through the door right know and asked you? Would you say no just because, in your opinion, the moment wasn’t special enough?”

Mycroft didn’t have to think about it for a second, knowing he would likely forget about everything else around him. The question alone was what would make the moment special.

“Of course not. Your insight is extraordinary, Susannah. Seeing things from your perspective is always very refreshing and immensely helpful.”

“So, why are you not on your way to ask him already?”

It felt like his heart stopped beating for a few moments to then drop into his stomach like a useless lump of quivering emotions. Putting it off, if only a few more hours, had felt like the right thing to do.

“What? You mean right this instant?” 

“Oh you are a hopeless case, Mycroft Holmes… Of course right now, I thought you understood! He’d say yes even if you’d ask him on a random morning with his awfully messy hair standing up in odd directions whilst brushing his teeth. ”

“Or lying on the grass and enjoying the sun?” Mycroft cursed himself, his voice sounded weak and small. If he was going to do this now, he had to get a grip of himself.

“Exactly! Um, to be honest, that even sounds like one of those cheesy perfect moments, but that doesn’t really matter now. Gogogo! Don’t waste more time and text me how it went, yeah? Because I would really love to get to know your mum, you know.”

“I assure you, you will be the first to know.”

“Yay! You’ve got this M, trust me.”

“I do, Susannah darling. See you tomorrow.” The confidence in his voice was real and for the first time he felt strong enough to really do this.

“That’s the spirit, I’ll speak to you tomorrow, bye!”

Straightening his back, his tie and then his waistcoat, Mycroft sent one last lingering look down into the sunny garden where the sight of Gregory’s peaceful form lying in the green grass calmed him even more, before finally turning to walk into what he hoped was yet another chapter of their lives together.


	6. Green Grass and Blue Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"The first drag was good, but not what he’d hoped for. It had been stupid to think smoking would help. At work it was mostly the break that was refreshing, not the cigarette itself. Going down to the smoker’s corner, meeting someone there and having a little chat; that was what Greg really missed. Well, that and the nicotine. Still, this was supposed to be his last for hopefully a long time so he wouldn’t let it go to waste."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A while back, I asked the amazing qed221b to draw a scene that has been in my head for a long time, a scene that belongs in this very chapter, and it fits perfectly. Find the original post [here](http://qed221b.tumblr.com/post/83822631103/to-the-lovely-my-citrus-pocket-who-has-been-so) on tumblr.

 

The first drag was good, but not what he’d hoped for. It had been stupid to think smoking would help. At work it was mostly the break that was refreshing, not the cigarette itself. Going down to the smoker’s corner, meeting someone there and having a little chat; that was what Greg really missed. Well, that and the nicotine. Still, this was supposed to be his last for hopefully a long time so he wouldn’t let it go to waste.

Strolling across the backyard he took out his keys and opened the garage, smiling down at the little silver umbrella Mycroft had fastened to his set of the country house keys as he did so. Greg put the cigarette between his lips and rummaged through the drawer of the workbench that stood beside his bike. He hadn’t taken it out for a ride in ages and felt the urge to wipe away the insulting layer of dust immediately. Now that he had finally succeeded in convincing Mycroft to buy his own biker gear, he hoped they would go for a little tour as soon as possible. He desperately longed to see his partner in this new outfit because even though he had a vivid imagination, it was somehow very hard to picture.

By the time he was done dusting and fantasising, the cigarette was nearly gone too, and after he inhaled deeply one last time, he unceremoniously stomped it out on the stony ground and picking up the remains threw it in the nearby bin. Another _last one_ finished. Mycroft was right, who was he kidding? Well, he would certainly try to resist for longer this time.

Before going outside again he smoothed his hand over the leather seat of his bike, remembering last summer when they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other for the first time. That moment was still one of his most treasured memories, but sometimes it felt almost unreal. Probably because he’d thought those days of being seduced in a garage after a ride on a bike were either behind him, or one of those things you only saw in porn but never actually happened in real life. His teenage self had dreamt about doing the things he’d done with Mycroft that day. He’d saved money religiously month after month from his wages when he’d first joined the police, finally buying his first bike. He’d been so proud of it, but real life and growing up had gotten in the way and the fantasies had never made it into reality.

Thinking about it now, it had been his first goal in life that he wanted to achieve; getting a good job so he could afford a bike. Even if it hadn’t been a really nice one, Greg had been so damn happy with himself back then.

When he walked out of the cool garage into the warm sunlight, his thoughts wandered further and he couldn’t help picking a spot and lying down in a sunny spot of green grass just near the little pond. Looking up at the blue sky, he suddenly felt like he was in his twenties again and closed his eyes, lost in the memories.

Even then, joining the police had been more to him than just a job. He’d chosen it because he’d wanted to make a difference and refused to close his eyes to the nasty things in life like so many people did. Starting a successful career had soon become his new goal and he worked hard for it, climbing up the ladder slowly but steadily. Then Iris had happened and the wish to become a father overshadowed everything for a while. Sue had been the centre of his life since then and when she got older and more independent, he’d thrown himself back into work. Now with the intention of earning enough money so his daughter would have everything she needed, could go to uni if she wanted to someday without having to worry about the cost. However, being finally promoted to DI meant an awful lot of work, and that had been the time when Iris had stopped being honest with him. After the divorce he had no real goal anymore, he’d saved enough money for Sue so she could do whatever she wanted after school, but he still put something into the account he’d opened for her every month. Just in case, and also because there was no one else he could spend it on.

The last year had been different though. Everything was different with Mycroft, but a good kind of different.

Opening his eyes again he watched the clouds float by and when he looked over the pond towards the house covered in ivy, he suddenly knew what caused the unsettling feeling that just wouldn’t stop nagging at the back of his mind. Greg missed the feeling of working up to something, putting that bit of extra effort into his actions because he wanted to achieve something so badly that every second of his overtime made him feel more alive rather than sleep deprived.

He realised, that for the first time in his life, he had no goal. Why hadn’t he thought about that before? But somehow, it was right there in front of him, like it had been there all along without him noticing. Lying here in this beautiful garden with the sun shining down on him, he could see it all very clearly in his mind. Sue was standing right there at the pond, she looked older but hadn’t really grown all that much. He saw her kneeling down beside a little child that played by the water and then looked over to him with big brown eyes, holding up a reed it waved at him enthusiastically. Someone else joined the scene, and as soon as the child heard the nearing footsteps it squeaked, stood up and ran on unsteady feet towards the tall and handsome figure. It was Mycroft, clad in khakis and a navy polo shirt, his thinning ginger hair now decorated with greying temples. With his face lighting up the man leant down with his arms spread wide open to catch the little cheerful bundle, swirling it around to make it squeal some more. When they finally stopped they looked right at Greg, both breathless and utterly happy. Accepting a new goal in life had never been easier.

He blinked a few times, bringing himself back to reality because the Mycroft that was walking towards him was more familiar, wearing the grey linen suit he had put on this very morning but smiling just as happily. He might even call his expression exhilarated and slightly overexcited, nervous maybe, but before Greg could wonder what exactly had happened, Mycroft was already kneeling down, uncharacteristically without worrying about grass stain on his fine trousers. Before Greg’s still dreamy mind could catch up with the new confusing situation, Mycroft was speaking.

“Could you please do me the favour of standing up?”

“What? Sorry, why? You just sat down to join me and now you want  _me_  to move?”

“Not move, my dear, just stand up and give me a minute to explain.”

When Greg stood and Mycroft remained on the ground before him, looking up almost shyly, it still took Greg another heartbeat or two to realise what was happening. After that, his heart started beating so fast that it was impossible to count the beats.

Mycroft stared nervously up into Greg’s face, searching for hints of fear or repugnancy, and when he found nothing but honest surprise, he had no reason to abort his mission. It was now or never, he told himself as he reached into his waistcoat pocket and hoped that he wouldn’t have to put the ring back inside again.

“My dear Gregory, I apologise for my lack of finesse in this matter, I’m doing this rather spontaneously. I would have waited for a more appropriate moment, but if I wait any longer I would probably fall out of favour with your daughter, who very eagerly persuaded me to act now and cease my procrastination.”

His voice did not sound as steady as he might wish, but when Mycroft opened his palm and revealed the ring, the glow in Greg’s eyes and the hitch in his breath gave him the last bit of courage he needed to move on.

“This ring was given to me by my grandmother in hope that I, one day, would give it to the person that completes me, that I trust above all and that I love more than I ever thought possible. Would you, Gregory Laurence Lestrade, accept to wear this ring to openly show our bond and would you, furthermore, do me the honour of calling me your future husband?”

Greg listened silently and completely in awe, he took in every word and tried to remember it all, even how the air smelled of freshly mowed grass at this moment and how the warm summer breeze brushed through his hair. When Mycroft finally presented the ring, Greg cupped his hand and sank down to his knees as well, carefully not to lose eye contact with the brave but nervous man in front of him.

“Mycroft Holmes, since it’s now official that you can read my mind, I guess I don’t even have to say it. But I kind of need to hear it myself so… Yes, I want to marry you, even if I don’t know  _your_  middle name. A moment ago I confirmed that there is nothing I want more than to grow old with you, here in this house. That’s my new goal in life, taking good care of you and me so that we are still fit and healthy when we retire. Oh and the next time you speak to Sue, tell her she owes us a grandchild for pressuring you into this. And now, calm down my love, put this ring on my finger and let me kiss you.”

 

 


	7. Where I Want to Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Ten years ago, if you had asked Mycroft Holmes if he was happy, he would have replied with cold emotionless laughter. "I am exactly where I want to be, who I desire to be, and doing precisely that which I have always aimed towards. What can we surmise about my happiness from that?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers, since I'm getting married too in a few weeks, I can't write as much as I want at the moment. Please be patient, this story will not be abandoned, no matter how long it's going to take me to write the next chapter! Thanks for all your support, comments and kudos, you are the best!
> 
> Listen to [Where I Want To Be sung by Ian Hallard](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y8-X_Z9GsKI&feature=youtube_gdata_player) if you want some dark Mycroft feels. This song has always intrigued me to write down a very dark Mycroft headcanon, it fits perfectly. I only hint at it in this chapter, but maybe one day I’m going to explore it further.

 

Ten years ago, if you had asked Mycroft Holmes if he was happy, he would have replied with cold emotionless laughter.

_“I am exactly where I want to be, who I desire to be, and doing precisely that which I have always aimed towards. What can we surmise about my happiness from that?”_

It was years later that he had realised - even if he had achieved everything he ever wanted - it had felt like a hollow victory and it had taken one Gregory Lestrade to show him just how wrong he had been. Now he knew happiness. He felt it, right here in the garden with his fiancé in his lap who kissed him like he was the most important thing in the world; Mycroft Holmes now with surety knew pure happiness. Being loved so unconditionally by this man, who spoke so casually of grandchildren that he could almost see them running around the garden, made him weep.

Mycroft had felt like crying many times in his life, but he learned to control his tears at an early age. Crying meant upsetting Mummy and disappointing father, so he trained himself to avoid emotion, schooling himself into a detached emotionless state. Even so, there had been moments in his life where all this training was for nothing.

Seeing his baby brother Sherlock for the first time had made him cry while his mother held them both close. The love he had felt, and also the pride and the responsibility that came with having a younger sibling, had been too much to process for his little seven year old self. He had regained control again after that incident and the next time he had cried it was many years later, and at least no one saw him. It had been on the train to Cambridge, Mummy and Sherlock had accompanied him to the station to wave him goodbye, but it had been more than he could stand. His brother’s words echoed in his mind ever since.

_“Don’t leave me alone, Mycroft. I don’t understand why you have to go! Stay, don’t leave me…”_

Mycroft had told him many times before that he would only go to university, that he would visit and that he would always be there for his brother, but Sherlock couldn’t understand. The boy had hugged him on the platform, his tiny face pressed against his waistcoat where he had sobbed until the train arrived. Mycroft had put on his brave face for Mummy who had been so concerned what would happen to Sherlock if her eldest left home, but when he had sat alone in his compartment, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. The tears fell down and he had felt like a traitor.

When his grandmother had died, there was nothing he could do to stop the tears from falling. Although he’d known for weeks that it wouldn’t be long until she would finally pass away. He had visited as often as he could but when it happened, the feel of loss was deeper than he had ever imagined.

The last time had been a few years ago and it had been a life changing experience for him. It had been the day he realised he was in love. It was more like a nervous breakdown, after Sherlock had asked about his increased interest in the newly divorced Lestrade. It was something he’d never asked himself before after hiding what he had forced himself believe was a purely sexual attraction towards the man for years. Of course Sherlock knew, he had probably always known, and he had chosen this moment to start teasing him about it. Although, in his defence, Mycroft was sure Sherlock hadn’t anticipated such a forceful emotional reaction. Seeing his brother so lost, broken and in tears, Sherlock had hugged him and they promised to help each other with the unfamiliar matters of the heart. It brought them together once more, closer than they had been for a considerable time and on a level that had been damaged since Mycroft had left for Cambridge. 

Right now, Mycroft didn’t even think of hiding the depth of his emotions, even if the kisses began to taste salty and Greg started to wipe the tears away with his nose.

Greg, sensing that he was witnessing something very rare, knew that there was nothing he could do but hold and kiss his Mycroft until the tears finally subsided. It was heartbreakingly beautiful to see him like this. The raw emotions dancing in his pale eyes made him look fragile, but also so full of life.

“Hey, love. Come here, let me help you.” Un-tucking his shirt he wiped Mycroft’s cheeks dry with the hem and finished by kissing the reddened skin softly. “There you go, ready to celebrate?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t thought this through, my dear. It’s most unlikely that there is champagne in the fridge.”

“Nah, that’s not what I had in mind anyway. What about I’m taking you for a ride on the bike? It’s a lovely day and that’s how everything started in the first place. Also, you told me you brought  _something appropriate_  to wear and I can’t wait to see you in it.”

Mycroft chuckled when Gregory shuffled excited in his lap, his eyes were beaming and he seemed very eager.

“Excellent idea, but first of all, we should inform Susannah of the news. I’m sure she won’t be able to sit still until she’s heard from us.”

“Oh sure, I’m on it and get the bike ready afterwards. You go inside and change, I know you always need extra time for that.”

With a wink Greg wanted to stand up but Mycroft was faster, pulling him in for another deep kiss. It was an impossible feeling, so different from everything he had ever felt for anyone. He had  thought he was in love before - truly and utterly in love - only now he realised none of it had meant anything, not when he compared it to what he now felt for Mycroft.

“If we want to get anything done today, we have to stop kissing at some point, you know?” Greg smiled into the kiss, nudging their noses together.

“We don’t  _have_  to do anything. I’d be quite happy to kiss you all day, but since I’m just as keen to see you in your leathers as you are to see me in my new outfit, I think I’d be able to let you go in a few minutes.”

More than fifteen minutes later Mycroft let Greg go, but only because his rear had started to hurt from sitting on the ground for so long. Gregory helped him up and with one last peck on his forehead Mycroft went inside, but not without looking back at least three times to watch how his soon-to-be husband typed a text to Susannah in his usual slow manner. The reply came instantly because he only just reached the kitchen when he heard the phone chime from outside, smiling to himself he could just imagine Susannah waiting with the phone in her hands for the past half hour. He also heard Gregory’s footsteps fast approaching.

“My, wait! Just a sec!”

Popping his head out of the door he saw Gregory ran towards him, who was slightly out of breath.

“Yes, my dear?” Mycroft asked innocently.

“Why is she writing back ‘ _See you tomorrow’_?”

Mycroft just smiled, Gregory’s face of confusion was one of his favourites.

“Oh why the hell does nobody tell me anything?”

“Because you’re adorable when you pout.”

“Great! I’ve got such a nice family, everybody just makes plans without telling me and thinks it’s funny.”

“In this case, I better tell you now that the three of us are going to visit my mother tomorrow, so you can get used to the plan.” Gregory just stared at him gaping. “It’s all because she can help Susannah with her maths problems, you see, and we thought it would be a nice opportunity to…”

He stopped his poor attempt at explaining how they came up with the plan as arms were wrapped around his waist tightly.

“It’s alright, love. I think it really is a nice opportunity. I’d love to finally get to know her, especially when we can tell her the good news personally and Sue’s coming along too. Now go and get your nice bum into the leathers so I can take you out on the streets to show everyone what a handsome husband I’ve got.”

“Be careful, we're not married yet.” Mycroft chuckled and squeezed Gregory’s shoulders, enjoying that from his position on the doorstep he could place a kiss directly onto the top of his head.

“Yeah, sure. Knowing you and the rest of the lot, the wedding is already planned and all I have to do is say yes.”

“Well,” Mycroft laughed, “I thought you might appreciate having at least a little bit of input, so you can still choose the flavour of the cake.”

“Mycroft Holmes, you are impossible and I love you.”

They both laughed and continued to hug each other, enjoying their luck for a while longer.

When Mycroft finally made it upstairs, opened the wardrobe and got out his new biker outfit, he was sure that this was exactly where he wanted to be; challenged to do ridiculous things like this by the man he loved. This was also who he desired to be; Mycroft Holmes in biker clothes, because there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his Gregory. This wasn’t what he had always aimed towards no, but it was so much more.

If you asked Mycroft Holmes now if he was happy, he would reply with warm and genuine laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't read the first parts of this story, you might not know how their country house looks like!  
> [The yard](http://si.wsj.net/public/resources/images/OB-WO509_6hodhe_H_20130305073834.jpg), [the pond](http://si.wsj.net/public/resources/images/OB-WO510_8hodhe_H_20130305074109.jpg), [the house](http://si.wsj.net/public/resources/images/OB-WO504_1hodhe_H_20130305073111.jpg).


	8. The Things You Do For Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I’m not sure I can wait until after the trip to get you out of all this fine leather,” Greg mumbled into the kiss._

While Mycroft went upstairs to change, Greg walked over to the garage and pushed the bike out into the yard. Absentmindedly he rubbed at the chromed finish with the hem of his shirt, his thoughts elsewhere; the thin gold band on his finger, blinking in the sun, capturing most of his attention. He’d never thought marriage would be something Mycroft would want, but since they hadn’t talked about it, he shouldn’t have assumed. Sue was right when she said that Mycroft and he should try and talk about important things more often, it was just that neither of them were very good at it. Nevertheless, they’d made it this far and it was an amazing feeling.

Wearing a ring again felt strange, though. Something he was going to have to get used to.

Deciding that his cleaning efforts didn’t make any real difference, and that he should rather give his bike a proper wash in the near future, he made his way upstairs in search for his own biker leathers. When he reached the bedroom door, he froze. Greg wasn’t sure what he had expected, nothing specific really, but what he saw was absolutely breathtaking.

Mycroft stood in front of the full length cheval Victorian floor mirror, checking his appearance with a critical frown on his face. His black leather trousers fitted a bit too closely to be considered entirely decent, doing a fantastic job of showing off his luscious arse and endless legs to perfection. They had ribbed reinforcement at the knees and the ridges looked so soft and tactile, Greg had to fight to keep his hands from reaching out to touch. The desire to run his fingers up and down the skin warmed leather rode Greg hard. From his angle he couldn’t see what Mycroft wore underneath the short, tight leather jacket but at that moment he didn’t particularly care either, he just stared a little bit longer before he softly cleared his throat, not wanting to startle Mycroft. When his lover turned around slowly, it was easy to see that he wasn’t comfortable in the slightest and probably needed a bit of encouragement to leave the house as he was. Grinning broadly at him Greg whistled and stepped closer.

“Wow! Just… Wow!” The smell of leather, combined with Mycroft’s scent and hints of his familiar cologne made finding words really quite difficult.

“I hope this is adequate. Anthea was charged with procuring the necessary safety garments, though I readily admit this was perhaps not what I had envisioned on assigning the task to her. Nor am I convinced that this is what you wanted either.”

“First of all: What I want is you, Mycroft. In this particular case I also want you to be safe, but apart from that, you look stunning. Absolutely gorgeous! You should give her a pay rise for this, actually. She might have saved the world a few times, but dressing you up like this should not go unmentioned. It gives humankind something very nice to look at, that’s important too, you know.”

Mycroft, who had been deeply concerned about facing his Gregory in this unfamiliar clothing, blushed and his shy smile grew more confident every second. The honesty written all over Gregory’s face and his serious yet mischievous tone washed away most of his insecurities. With a cheeky grin he posed proudly, showing off his new clothes like he’d never worn anything else in his life and enjoyed the effect his posing had on Gregory.

Greg could only huff weakly when Mycroft, with his arms spread wide, looked at him invitingly from under his lashes. He wondered briefly if it was an act or a cover up for something else, but he stepped forward nevertheless, grabbing the leather jacket by its lapels to pull Mycroft the rest of the way so he could kiss him hungrily.

“I’m not sure I can wait until after the trip to get you out of all this fine leather,” Greg mumbled into the kiss.

Pulling back slightly, Mycroft looked at him and raised one eyebrow.

“Oh but dear, remember the first time I saw you in your biker outfit? How you made me mad with want walking around in those indecent trousers? I waited a whole day so surely you can make an effort and restrain yourself just a little bit longer.”

“That’s just mean. If you had jumped me right there and then when I arrived, I wouldn’t have pushed you away, you know. Wait, I did change before I cooked dinner, didn’t I?”

“Not in my imagination, my dear.”

“Well, that you couldn’t control your naughty fantasies was hardly my fault.”

“Entirely your fault!” Mycroft countered in mock outrage, looking bashfully innocent.

“Oh shut up you drama queen.”

Greg decided against a smug grin and went for a sulky pout instead, but he kissed Mycroft anyway.

*

The trip was extremely delightful and Gregory was so reassuring that Mycroft forgot about his previous discomfort in his leathers. Only when his beloved sent him another dirty, lingering look, he was reminded of what he actually wore and swayed his hips a little bit more confident each time.

In the beginning of their relationship, it hadn’t been easy for Mycroft to accept Gregory’s flattery compliments about his appearance. What Gregory saw in him had been a mystery to Mycroft in those early days. However, Gregory kept telling him how sexy he was, how much he wanted him and Mycroft, who had always thought he was nothing much to look at, began to actually feel sexy and desirable - no one else had ever managed that and Mycroft couldn’t say that he didn’t enjoy it.

After today, Mycroft was sure it wouldn’t be an issue anymore. Gregory had made him leave the house in leathers after all. The material on his skin felt still strange, though. Something he would most definitely have to acclimatise to.

Besides, riding the bike distracted him enough that any thoughts of his appearance were pushed far from the forefront of his mind. It was ridiculous how free it made him feel. They had taken such rides together and tough it wasn’t a new experience, it was irritatingly exciting. On one hand, the physical closeness to Gregory and the speed were exhilarating; on the other hand, he felt so safe and secure with Gregory in charge that it was also a very calming experience. His mind could go blank during a ride, he could forget about everything else, almost like when they had sex and he gave himself over to his partner completely. It had the same effect on his mind, the constant stream of noise found peace, thoughts were pushed away and there was suddenly a quiet place where he could rest.

Today was a little bit different, though. Not only was the new sensation of leather rubbing against leather extremely arousing, he also found the realisation that there really wasn’t much space for his growing excitement in his trousers rather disappointing. His mind however, was still occupied with processing the fact that Gregory had said yes and that they were to be married. It simply refused to go blank which was confusing, but not in a bad way.

During their stop at a particular nice spot at a riverbank, the sun began to retreat behind heavy clouds that rolled across the sky and on their way back, a cold wind began to bluster. Not that they noticed in their newly engaged state and their warm clothes. Only later, back in the garage when they lazily made out against the workbench, Mycroft felt the chill creeping up his neck and moving things inside felt like a good idea.

He bushed his nose along Gregory’s ear and then licked the lobe teasingly before he whispered low and breathy.

“If you follow me upstairs, I’ll run you a bath and then strip you out of all this leather. Slowly, very slowly. Then I’ll do whatever you want me to do. I could bath you, clean away last week’s stress, bring you pleasure in whatever way you desire. What do you want me to do, Gregory? Tell me.”

Greg shivered at the thought of Mycroft doing all that, and more. His fantasy too chaotically vivid to decide which of all those possibilities was the hottest at the moment. He looked up at Mycroft’s flushed face, his lips wet and red from kissing, and thought about how he had posed for him in the bedroom earlier, how he had wiggled his leather-clad arse in front of him all day. It had affected him to see Mycroft like that, not merely physically but because he knew he had put those things on just for him. Mycroft, even if he had been way out of his comfort zone, had seemed so confident wearing the leathers at the end of the day.

“I want you to strip for me. Would you do that? Out of those leathers and just as slowly as you undress me?” 

“I already told you I’d do anything for you,” Mycroft purred, turned around slowly and flounced out of the door.

“Fuck, you’re so hot when you do that, you have no idea.” Greg sighed and followed him, his eyes fixed on the flexing muscles of Mycroft’s arse before him.

“I do, actually,” Mycroft said with his usual aplomb. _But only because of you_ , he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger. There will be porn. ;)


	9. Feels Like Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"The feeling of their wet skin sliding against each other in the water was marvellous and he reminded himself to invite Greg to share a bath more often."_

They didn’t hurry, because they did that far too often in Greg’s opinion. They hurried when there was no time in the morning but they still couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Or just like this morning, when they hadn’t seen each other in days and the need was overwhelming.

This was heavenly, though. Greg was pressed against the slowly warming stone tiles in the bathroom while steam rose from the bathtub, the steady stream of water louder than his own soft sighs. Mycroft, still fully clothed in his biker leathers, had already removed Greg’s t-shirt and was now trailing kisses down his chest, thumbs brushing lightly over his nipples as he dropped to his knees before him. Licking into his bellybutton, Mycroft’s pale eyes looked up at him as his long fingers slowly undid the button and fly of Greg’s tighter by the minute leather trousers.

Greg couldn’t watch any longer, not if he wanted to last, so he cradled the back of Mycroft’s head instead and closed his eyes.

“Slowly,” Greg whispered. “We said we’d do it slowly tonight, relish the moment.”

“I’m taking it slowly, my dear Gregory, with great relish. You are the one thinking far too much this time. Just let all the stress fade away and concentrate on my touch.”

Greg moaned deep in his throat and let his head fall back against the wall. The low burn of arousal in his groin intensified further when Mycroft nuzzled his nose into the newly revealed fabric of his boxers. Fingernails scratched over his leather clad thighs and a breathy moan against his hardening cock made it very hard to maintain the restrained pace. Only his determination to make it last this time, to enjoy without hurrying, made him remain passive. There was no place for want and need on this special night, only for love and intimate togetherness. So instead of pushing his hips forward, Greg ran his fingers slowly through the soft hair on Mycroft’s neck.

He let Mycroft pull down his trousers and stepped out of them. Then Mycroft rose slowly, feather light touches flew over Greg’s thighs, hips and ribs up to his shoulders before they lost each other in a sweet and lingering kiss. Mycroft’s lips moved on and several long moments later travelling along his jaw line while his fingers traced back and forth along Greg’s collarbone before stroking down his sides to hook into the waistband of his boxers. Kneeling down once more, Mycroft helped him out of them and his socks and while making his way to standing, licked Greg’s erection from the base to the tip in one long swipe of his tongue in passing. Greg gasped and his eyes flew open when Mycroft tugged at his hands, pulling him away from the wall and towards the steaming tub.

When they reached it Mycroft poured some lovely smelling oils into the water and then stepped behind his lover, bestowing a series of open mouthed kisses to his shoulder blades. He helped Greg into the warm, bubbly water and turned off the tap. After bending down for one more kiss Mycroft watched as Greg leant back comfortably before he stepped around to the other end of the free-standing bathtub. Mycroft smirked when he saw only one of Gregory’s arms casually resting on the rim, the slow movement of the water surface and the naughty gleam in his eyes told him how the other one was currently occupied.

As slowly as Mycroft could manage - and under very interested scrutiny - he started to undress himself, his eyes locked with Gregory’s as he moved. He’d done it before of course, undressing in front of Greg - but never like this. Occasionally Mycroft would shed one or two pieces of clothing in a seductive manner because he knew Gregory liked it, but he’d never been so obviously on display or out of his partner’s reach. Also, before tonight, Greg had never asked him to strip before. It did add a measure of pressure to it, especially considering he currently wore rather unfamiliar articles of clothing, though it also held a certain degree of thrilling satisfaction seeing how much Gregory enjoyed the show. Encouraged by Gregory’s lustful stare Mycroft licked his lips as he tried to remove the leather jacket as sexy a manner as possible. If the noises emanating from the bathtub were to be believed, he was doing quite a good job. By the time he removed his polo shirt and threw it away enthusiastically, the other man’s breath quickened.

Swaying his hips enticingly, Mycroft popped open the button of his own leather trousers and lowered the zip slowly. His erection had grown, making them a little uncomfortable in their snugness, and although he was very eager to finally get them off, he managed to peel the tight material off his legs with what he hoped was at least some grace. The only thing that was left now were his very tight cotton boxer briefs and even if it was hard to tear his eyes away, he turned around and wiggled his arse before slowly bending down to work them down little by little until they pooled at his feet.

Greg was unable to hold back any longer, he had teased his cock with lazy strokes throughout Mycroft’s unbearably sexy performance, but now that he was presented with the glorious sight of the naked man’s backside, he had to grip a bit harder.

“Please My, come here. I need to touch you or I’ll go crazy!”

Mycroft couldn’t hide a smug smile as he turned around and took the offered hand to join Greg in the bath. Pulling him closer, Greg shifted a little lower so Mycroft could comfortably lie half on his chest and between his spread legs. Thankfully, the tub proofed to be large enough that they still had some space to move.

As soon as he was close enough, Mycroft was kissed passionately. The feeling of their wet skin sliding against each other in the water was marvellous and he reminded himself to invite Greg to share a bath more often. They kissed unhurriedly, for a while satisfied by the occasional rub against the other’s body.

As lovely as this bath was, the water was cooling and when Greg’s moans began to sound more and more frustrated, Mycroft took him in hand. With a firm grip he found a rhythm that matched their steady pace and had Greg panting in minutes. Leaning closer, Mycroft found Greg’s earlobe and spoke low and breathy.

“You liked what you saw, didn’t you? I wore it for you and I took it off for you – only for you. I would do it again, you just have to ask. Or maybe I’ll surprise you one day. Oh Gregory, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you…”

With one hand gripping the rim of the tub for support and the other pressed against Mycroft’s damp neck, Greg felt helpless. There was nothing he could do but hold on and let that silky voice carry him slowly over the edge. When he came, Greg’s long and satisfied moan echoed in the tiled room, his forehead pressed hard into the crook of Mycroft’s neck.

Gently, Greg pushed Mycroft’s body towards the other end of the tub and leaned over him. His eyes were still closed in bliss but he didn’t need his sight to find his lover’s hard cock between their bodies. Greg stroked him agonisingly slowly but with clear purpose and soon Mycroft’s writhing body went still beneath him. Opening his eyes just in time Greg witnessed Mycroft experiencing a long and intense orgasm. Mycroft’s arms were both spread over the rim, his head was thrown back and his body arched out of the water as Greg worked him gently through it. A soft sigh escaped Mycroft’s lips as he slipped languidly back into the water, his half lidded eyes searching for Greg’s.

“Hey love, you with me?” Greg stroked a few damp curls from Mycroft’s forehead and snaked an arm around his neck to prevent him from sliding even deeper into the water. “Let’s get you under a hot shower for a few seconds and then to bed, hm? How does that sound?”

“Heavenly. It sounds heavenly, Gregory.”

“Come on then, sleepy princess, before you fall asleep in the mess we’ve made in here.”

Greg helped a drowsy Mycroft out of the bath, into the shower and did his best to towel him off carefully but thoroughly after he had a very quick shower himself. Once they were cuddled up in bed they fell asleep instantly. Greg’s last thought before sleep overwhelmed him was, that he should probably be nervous about meeting Mrs. Holmes the next day, but he felt so happy and content at the moment that he didn’t even care.

In the early hours of the next morning, however, Greg realised that he actually cared a lot.

 

 


	10. Worlds Collide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"The last few days had been like a rollercoaster of emotions for Greg. Thankfully the depressing uncertainty that had followed him for so long hadn’t resulted in a breakdown like he’d thought it probably would. Instead, with Mycroft’s help, he was finally able to see what was right in front of him, a future with new goals to aim for. So if the next step towards realising those goals was meeting Mrs. Holmes, he had to pull himself together." ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, that I started writing this story pre-S3, which means that my portrayal of Mummy and Daddy Holmes is not canon compliant. Wanda Ventham's Mummy is more or less like I've always imagined her, though. If you've read this series from the beginning, you know more about her background which most likely is not what the creators had in mind when they wrote her into the show.

Greg was woken by the first weak sunbeams that crept through the bedroom window. With his head resting on his hand the day seemed all but normal, until he registered something hard pressing into his cheek. Opening his eyes he lifted his head and stared in mild confusion at his hand. When he made out the ring in the hazy light that fought its way through the faint early summer’s morning fog to brighten the room, he remembered. A dreamy smile spread over his face when his eyes flicked to Mycroft’s sleeping form as he lay mere inches away, and for a few peaceful moments Greg just watched the regular rises and falls of Mycroft’s chest as he slept on.

It wasn’t long until a nagging in Greg’s mind broke the peace, telling him he’d forgotten something. Something that he was managing to completely ignore because he felt so utterly happy that he didn’t want anything to interrupt his pleasure. Yeah, for reasons he didn’t quite understand, they had to visit Mycroft’s mother today. He knew that Sue’s maths problems weren’t the only reason, nor was it the simple fact of their engagement. He didn’t want to push though, Mycroft clearly had his reasons.

It wasn’t that Greg didn’t want to meet her, he’d encouraged a visit often enough in the past, but apparently that didn’t stop the nerves that sprang up all of a sudden. He sat up and rubbed his hands over his face.

The last few days had been like a rollercoaster of emotions for Greg. Thankfully the depressing uncertainty that had followed him for so long hadn’t resulted in a breakdown like he’d thought it probably would. Instead, with Mycroft’s help, he was finally able to see what was right in front of him, a future with new goals to aim for. So if the next step towards realising those goals was meeting Mrs. Holmes, he had to pull himself together.

From the few things Greg had heard about the woman, she had to be either an extremely lovely or very terrifying person. The Holmes boys rarely spoke about her, and sometimes it seemed to Greg that they wanted to make the world believe they didn’t have something as mundane as parents. If they did though, Greg had always heard the exasperated and annoyed undertones and wondered if there was more to it than the normal level of annoyance that came when dealing with ones parents. After all, she must be a special kind of character to bring up two rather unique children mostly alone, with a husband that didn’t seem to have been very interested in his offspring and died before his eldest went to Uni.

Mycroft and Sherlock almost never spoke about their past and maybe this visit would give him a bit more insight. Greg had learned a little bit about their mother’s parents already, how important especially their grandmother had been to Mycroft, which was a start after all.

Greg turned around when he felt a warm hand touching his side tentatively.

“Is everything all right, Gregory?”

Greg lay back down and kissed Mycroft reassuringly.

“Everything’s fine, my soon-to-be husband. You were nervous too before we went and visited my mum for the first time, remember?”

“Yes, I do. I don’t remember that you were nervous about introducing me to her, though. I however, feel quite dreadful at the thought of it right now.”

“Aw, come here poor thing, you’ve gone all pale now. Sue’s going to be there, so there won’t be an awkward silence over tea and biscuits, she’s going to take care of that.”

“Oh that she will without doubt, but I am not concerned with an absence of conversation, indeed quite the opposite.”

“Ha, so your mum’s a chatty one, eh? Great, thought she might be lovely, even if you like to avoid talking about her and make everyone believe she must be a rather formidable person.”

“You have nothing to fear, my dear, believe me. She is going to be over the moon to finally meet you and Susannah. I, on the other side, will have to suffer because first of all it took me so long to introduce you, though she never forced the issue, but most of all because it has taken me over forty years to bring anyone home to introduce.”

“And there’s my drama queen again. Mycroft, if she’s as lovely as I’m beginning to believe she is, you have nothing to fear either. It’s ok to be nervous though. I’ve brought some people home over the years and my mum has always been cool about it, that’s why I wasn’t overly nervous that day. Introducing Sue to you was different though, even if I knew you would get on great, but it was a first after all. Think about that after today, most of the family meetings are behind us. Well, at least I hope so. Do you have any scary aunts or uncles?”

“Well, I’m afraid there are a few odd family members left to introduce, but we shouldn’t think about that before the wedding.”

“Oh, so we are going to have a big do? I haven’t thought about what I’d like actually, it’s still so new.”

“There aren’t many relatives on my father’s side I wish to invite, however, it would be a nice opportunity to see some of my mother’s side. No _big do_ , as you call it, is necessary if we don’t want that. We have all the time in the world to think about what we both want.”

“Good to know, but Sue is going to tell me what I have to want anyway. Talking about her, what are the plans for today?”

Greg felt the nervousness receding slowly but steadily, only that somehow it had morphed and was now more a positive kind of anticipation. Of course Greg wanted to make a good first impression with Mrs. Holmes, so he would need a bit more time to get ready than usual.

“We still have enough time for a few shared moments in each other’s arms before we have to get up, if that’s what you want to know. Susannah is going to be here for lunch and then we are having tea and dinner at my mother’s.”

“Ah that’s nice, a cuddle is just what I need right now.” With a relieved groan Greg snuggled up against Mycroft’s side, finally seeing everything in a much brighter light again, and not just because the fog outside had started to dissolve and it promised to be another sunny day.

*

“Susannah darling, if you are going to continue to hug us with such a rigorous force, I fear I might suffocate.” Mycroft managed to choke out the words after Susannah had thrown herself at them when she arrived and was now squeezing almost all the air out of his lungs.

“Oh don’t whine M, a family hug is what we need right now. I’m just so happy that I don’t know what to do with all the happiness. Although, I could be convinced to let go if you show me the house. Oh and the garden, of course. I want to see the garden first!”

“That’s my sugar bug.” Greg ruffled his daughter’s short hair affectionately and after she squeezed their waists once more, Sue finally let go, beaming up at the two of them. “We’ll show you everything later, but what about lunch on the patio first? We should have enough time for a tour after that, right My?”

“There will be enough time indeed, especially since Gregory was kind enough to have already prepared his famous Mediterranean pasta salad for lunch and my mother lives within an hour’s drive.”

“Yay, great!” Susannah jumped up and down in excitement and while Mycroft mused about how glad he was to call these two his family, father and daughter chatted away happily on their way to the sunny patio where the table was already set.

*

While they ate, Sue’s eyes wandered over the garden. “Have you thought about celebrating the wedding here? It would be the most wonderful location, I’m sure there’s no better place.”

“Really Sue, we got engaged yesterday! Have patience with your old man, yeah? We haven’t planned anything yet. Well at least I haven’t, but I’m sure Mycroft doesn’t want people running around in his lovely garden unsupervised.”

“It would be my pleasure to provide use of this garden, which you forget is yours also, for this special occasion, my dear Gregory. Over there on the lawn would be the perfect place for a marquee, don’t you think, Susannah?”

From there on, Greg knew better than to interrupt the animated discussions that followed and just grinned and nodded to every suggestion the two overexcited wedding planners offered. When the following garden tour turned out to be more a hunt for the best location for a dance floor, Greg happily announced that he would gladly leave those decisions to them, eager as they were. He didn’t really care, as long as he could make these two happy. What they promised each other on that day was important to him, not the way they officially celebrated it. Although a garden party did sound rather nice.

At least it distracted them all and nobody felt nervous until they sat in the back of Mycroft’s limousine. Mycroft felt tense. He was dressed in a comfortable plaid brown suit with a subtle blue overcheck, but even if he was sure that he had picked the right outfit for the occasion—which always made things easier— he still couldn’t deny feeling uncomfortable in his own skin right now.

“So M, does your mother still live in the house you grew up in?”

Trust Susannah Lestrade to end any awkward silence before it even began.

“No, she moved to a lovely cottage shortly after Sherlock left for University. My father past away years before and she didn’t want to live alone in the old manor. She knew Sherlock and I wouldn’t come home every weekend to keep her company there, but she still made sure her new home had two spare bedrooms so we could visit whenever we wanted. I’m afraid we only made use of those rooms on rather seldom occasions, we should have visited her more often.”

“What a shame, I would have loved to see the place you two grew up in and have a look at your old rooms.”

When Greg saw how shocked Mycroft looked at the thought of that, he gave his daughter a warning look.

“Oh come on papa, you were dying to ask yourself.”

Susannah and Gregory grinned at each other, bright and open, and Mycroft was surprised to think that if he could, he would have shown them everything. Every little corner in that enormous house that had been important to him as a boy, because he trusted them, knew they wouldn’t have laughed if he had told them how he often hid in the barn to play with the kittens when everything else in the world had felt dull and meaningless. They wouldn’t laugh about his mother either, neither about her fussing nor about ridiculous nicknames. The three of them would adore each other and even if he still felt like he wouldn’t quite fit in, he knew he wouldn’t feel like a complete outsider either. This was merely a procedure to bring two important parts of his life together; two parts that were very interested in the other but had never pushed anything because they cared for Mycroft and knew he would get there in time.

And indeed here he was, about 45 minutes and a heated discussion between father and daughter about the supposedly quality of some new science fiction franchise later, Mycroft could see his mother’s house at the end of the small country road. He had listened fondly and had let them talk him into a film marathon so he would know what they were talking about. Gregory and Susannah always took care to include him into their intimate world, but today it would be the other way around. Mycroft would give them access to the one person who knew everything about his past and unlike Sherlock, was willing to answer any question on every topic in length and most likely with an old photograph as proof.


	11. Dreams Come True, Sooner or Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Strolling casually over to the sofa, Greg flopped down on it with a coy smile on his face, intrigued to see if he could talk Mycroft into a little innocent snog in his mother’s living room."_

 

Mrs. Holmes – “Call me Margo,” as she insisted – was thankfully as lovely as Greg had hoped she would be. She embraced them all in warm welcoming hugs and when Mycroft kissed her cheek, sighed happily.

“Oh Mikey, I missed you. But look at you dear, all healthy and happy, a mother can’t wish for more. Now in with you all before the tea gets cold.”

When Margo shooed them inside, Greg and Sue didn’t even have time to properly grin at each other over Mycroft’s newly revealed nickname. Mycroft didn’t protest or correct her, and Greg was curious to know if it was because he’d trained himself to simply ignore it, or if he just didn’t mind her calling him Mikey in front of them. Greg couldn’t imagine that he let her get away with it in Sherlock’s presence, though.

They settled down at a bistro table in the conservatory that overlooked a beautifully wild garden, and over scones and a variety of homemade jams Margo had skilfully engaged them in a conversation about London. This gave everybody the opportunity to talk a little about themselves without it feeling too much of a getting-to-know-you interrogation.

Sue talked about school – blushing when Mycroft complemented her on her achievements – and what she was thinking about studying at Uni. At the moment she was very enthusiastic about staying in London to read Comparative Literature, but they all agreed that she had still enough time to choose what she wanted to do after school.

Of course Greg’s job was brought up too, but his stories of cases he had worked with Sherlock were often interrupted by Mycroft‘s words of praise, who felt the need to make it clear that Greg was indeed Scotland Yard’s finest. Greg didn’t think it was something worth pointing out, but he had to admit that it felt nice to hear Mycroft speaking so proudly of Sue and him.

They ended up listening to Mycroft recounting the story of how he and Greg had first met. An orchestrated meeting, so that Mycroft could vet Greg as a suitable and trustworthy acquaintance for his little brother, but Greg insisted on calling it kidnapping. Margo had obviously heard the story before, but took great delight in hearing it again along with Greg’s running commentary.

“Oh come on, you are over dramatising things again, love. It wasn’t raining outside and the warehouse wasn’t all that dark. It was actually a very nice spring day outside and a cheeky little sunbeam was dancing around on your forehead while you tried to intimidate me.”

“In which I succeeded, Gregory.”

“Only because I thought your umbrella was some kind of secret weapon.”

“Don’t be childish, you know it’s not.” Mycroft looked shocked, even more so when Sue interfered very seriously.

“No, we still can’t rule that out, right papa?”

“Right you are.” Greg answered with a grin, then looking over at Margo. “We could only check the ones he keeps at home, but there are some he always leaves at the office so we can’t be entirely sure that there isn’t at least one with a sword hidden away inside.”

“You two are ridiculous!” Mycroft said with mocked annoyance, shaking his head whilst reaching for another scone.

When everyone had finished their tea, Margo interrupted quickly.

“Well, I’m afraid Sue my dear, we have some business to attend to. Mikey, please be so kind and show her to my study? I’m just going to clean the table and will be right there with a bit of chocolate. Maths is always more fun when accompanied by chocolate.”

While Greg helped her gathering the plates, he noticed her gaze sliding to his ring. She had done the same a few times already, and since Mycroft hadn’t said anything about their engagement, he was unsure if he should bring it up. Margo kept on looking though, as if the ring unconsciously drew her attention. When they piled up the crockery in the sink, Greg hoped they were out of earshot from the study.

“You want to know why I’m wearing it, don’t you. I thought Mycroft would bring it up but…”

“Oh dear, I’ve been staring, sorry. I know what it means, although I’m not sure he’s keen on discussing it with me. The only important thing is that you are wearing it, dear. This ring held one particular promise for a very long time and I’m sure it’ll help keeping another for even longer.”

Margo patted his shoulder, her eyes bright and honest.

“Thank you, Margo, I’m sure it will.”

“All right, that’s settled then. I’ll send Mikey down again in a minute, he can show you around and maybe you can both go for a little walk? Your Sue is very clever, I’m sure she just needs someone to explain it in the right way, but we’ll need at least an hour and a half so I can make sure she’s ready for whatever the exam throws at her. “

“Sure, take your time. That’s why we’re here, at least officially.” When she winked at Greg and petted him on the shoulder once more, he knew they understood each other. “Oh and thanks for agreeing to help on such short notice.”

“Ah, don’t mention it. I love teaching, it was my job for a long time after the boys moved out and I’ll be always happy to help Sue whenever she needs me. Besides, I really wanted to get to know you two, so how could I possibly refuse?”

“Yeah, I’m glad he found such a good excuse for us to visit as well.”

They both laughed and when Margo went upstairs with two chocolate bars, Greg waited in the living room for Mycroft to come back down. In the meantime he strolled over to the sideboard where he’d spotted a few framed pictures earlier. Greg recognised one of them because he’s seen it often enough. Either it was the only picture of the young Holmes brothers in existence, or it was simply the only one the two of them actually approved of. The same picture sat on a shelf in Sherlock’s bedroom and hung on the wall of Mycroft’s study. It showed Sherlock wearing his academic dress, so it wasn’t hard to deduce that it must have been taken on the day of his graduation from Uni. Mycroft has one arm around his brother’s shoulder and was looking at him with a small, but very proud smile. Sherlock actually looked happy, his head slightly turned towards Mycroft but he was looking right into the camera, grinning.

Greg could understand why Mycroft chose the picture, he had told him how unapproachable Sherlock was at that time and that they hadn’t really been on speaking terms. The picture captured a moment, no matter how long it had lasted in reality, in which they had both forgotten to put on their carefully crafted acts and were just two brothers – one proud of the other’s achievements and the other happy that he made the other proud.

Another picture, Greg was very sure was the wedding picture of Margo’s parents. It was small and faded, the grainy black and white image made it hard to actually see their faces, but it was beautiful. They were standing in a garden under a bower that almost seemed to groan under a crown of full blooming roses. They held hands and had eyes for only each other, as though they’d forgotten that the person with the camera was even there capturing such a very intimate moment. Mycroft came back just as Greg decided that yes, a wedding in the garden would be very nice, and he must have been looking at the picture with dreamy eyes because Mycroft chuckled in amusement.

“I knew you would find them.”

“Sorry, detective’s instincts. Is this your father?” Greg pointed at the third picture, a handsome but very stern looking man.

“Yes,” was all Mycroft said, his tone flat and emotionless.

“Sherlock got his hair from him, and you his eyes. You look more like your granddad here, don’t you?” Greg looked back at the wedding picture. “I mean, I can’t really make out his face in this, but the silhouette alone could be you; the way he stands, the profile.”

“You can ask my mother for more pictures if you want, she has all the old family albums.”

“Another time maybe.” Greg turned and smiled up at Mycroft, not sure if Mycroft was only forcing himself to be open about his family. “Now what? Your mum suggested we go for a walk, or do you want to stay in?”

“I was about to suggest the same, there is not much to do here apart from drinking more tea, reading or having a game of chess.”

“Um, I don’t know. I remember a few things I did in my teens when someone brought me home and their parents left the room.”

“Gregory!” Mycroft whispered in horror and took one step back, as if the thought alone would make his mother reappear and he needed to physically distance himself from Gregory’s obviously naughty thoughts.

“What? You have no right to look so disgusted, you’ve no idea how exciting it feels if there is a chance that you could get caught snogging on the living room sofa.”

Strolling casually over to the sofa, Greg flopped down on it with a coy smile on his face, intrigued to see if he could talk Mycroft into a little innocent snog in his mother’s living room.

The only problem was, that there was nothing little nor innocent about Mycroft Holmes and Greg should have known better. They ended up almost forgetting where they were, rubbing against each other fully clothed and desperate - just like in is teens. Mycroft was lying on top of Greg, who he pressed into the sofa cushions, and they were kissing messily.

Greg thought of similar incidents in his youth which all ended more or less embarrassing, so he decided to be a responsible adult this time and pulled back.

“Oh fuck, that was a bad idea.” Gently but forceful Greg pushed Mycroft off him, who was raising his eyebrow whilst manoeuvring himself into a sitting position once more. “Don’t say it, I know, you told me so.”

“Indeed I did, but it was rather a thrilling experience, I have to admit.” Mycroft pulled a tiny comb out of his jacket pocket to smooth down his tousled hair again and apart from his kiss swollen lips and the obvious bulge in his suit trousers, he almost looked like nothing had happened in the past minutes.  Greg was sure he looked just as dishevelled as he felt. “I think we should consider going for that walk now to clear our heads.”

“Yeah, we should probably do that. Give me, uh, three minutes to calm down again. And stop looking at me like that! Jesus, that’s definitely not helping!”

Mycroft smirked smugly, knowing just how much of an effect he had on his Gregory was thrilling, and as such it was almost satisfying enough, but he still planned on finishing what they had started here later at home after Sue went to bed. He was still a bit mortified that they had actually snogged on his mother’s sofa, something he had only ever had the chance to fantasise about in his adolescence, but never dared think that someone would actually want to do something like this with him. His Gregory was, after all, more than he’d ever even dared dream of – but apparently dreams come true, sooner or later.

 

 


	12. Ice Cream and Potatoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"They walked slowly, occasionally hand in hand and often talking quietly while enjoying the fresh air and lovely scenery. The nearby village they ended up in was small, but the main street bedecked with flower pots that were bursting with colour was a hive of activity."_

 

They walked slowly, occasionally hand in hand and often talking quietly while enjoying the fresh air and lovely scenery. The nearby village they ended up in was small, but the main street bedecked with flower pots that were bursting with colour was a hive of activity.

Spotting an ice cream shop at the end of the road, Greg pulled Mycroft towards it.

“Come on, let’s get a treat for the way back.”

Mycroft let himself be pulled along, a little alarmed because he had never been quite comfortable with the undignified action of sticking out his tongue in public to lick at ice cold, creamy substances. However, Gregory seemed to be delighted though indecisive about which flavour to pick, leaving Mycroft with adequate time to study what was on offer. He quickly decided on salted caramel, which earned him an appreciative huff from Gregory and a “Good choice, sir.” from the women behind the counter.

It took Greg a little longer to finally decide and pick the lemon sorbet. Cold treats in hand they strolled over to a bench in the shade of a large oak tree on the village green and licked at their ice cream cones in silence for a while. Greg put his free arm on the back of the bench and around Mycroft’s shoulders, squeezing lightly to show his contentment.

For Mycroft this was the perfect opportunity to address something that had crossed his mind earlier.

“Do you know that the Department of Comparative Literature at King’s College is only half a mile from our home?”

“It’s that close?”

“It is indeed. I was thinking, that if Susannah chooses King’s College, perhaps we could broach the subject of her moving in with us while she attends?”

“Woah, really?” Greg nearly dropped his ice cream in surprise. “You’d want that? Honestly? I mean that would be fantastic! She’d want to bring Oscar, though, if the old boy’s still with us, that is.”

“You told me once that you believed I was a cat person, we have yet to discover if you were correct.”

“Yeah, I did say that, didn’t I? You remember…” A distant smile spread across Greg’s face. “It was right before you kissed me the first time.”

“I will always remember that moment, my dear Gregory. It is simply not possible to forget.”

They smiled at each other, both remembering that eventful, life-changing day the previous summer. Mycroft’s thoughts wandered further, to a shared lunch a few years before. Gregory had looked alarmingly unwell and even if they had never discussed such personal affairs before, Mycroft couldn’t help but ask if he was alright. Gregory had then told him that they decided that his daughter would stay with his ex-wife after the divorce. He remembered the pain in his eyes and the hitch in his breath as he spoke. Mycroft had wished he was able to do something for Gregory then, but it hadn’t been his place to interfere. Luckily, things had changed since then.

“You would love to have her around more, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course! It was the right decision at the time, to let her live with Iris. But, she’s older now, more independent and I suppose she would find her own rhythm of life in the house easily enough. It wouldn’t matter that we work odd hours. Maybe she wants to live on campus anyway, but I’d love to ask her when she decides what she wants to do. It feels good to give her the option, at least.”

“Living at the college is a unique experience, that much is true, but it’s not for everyone. I think it’s more likely that she would enjoy a little more family life before she goes out to build a life of her own. In the very least it would be a great interim solution, even if only for a short while, before she moves out entirely. Susannah would have the whole house to herself some evenings, also a quiet environment to study and a garden to roam. I – forgive me Gregory, am I too presumptuous? I only want the best for her, I won’t pressure her if she doesn’t want it.”

“You’re not presumptuous, love. Actually, you're the most generous and big-hearted person I know, and – on top of it all – you make a pretty awesome dad. Let’s not speculate and ask her when it’s time, yeah? But thanks for thinking of it, it means a lot. Now let me have a taste of your salted caramel ice cream, I don’t know why I went for sodding lemon in the first place.”

Greg reached out, closed his hand around Mycroft’s wrist and pulled him closer to lick his tongue across the ice cream cone Mycroft held in his hand. Mycroft stared mesmerised – still recovering from the part of their conversation concerning his parenting abilities – and a little shudder went down his spine when Greg moaned in blissful satisfaction as the rich and sweet flavour danced across his taste buds.

*

When Mycroft and Greg came back, they could hear Sue and Margo laughing in the garden. Revision clearly over, Greg and Mycroft found them busy picking juicy blackcurrants from berry laden bushes. The four of them spent the evening preparing dinner together. Margo was positively shocked about the improvement in Mycroft’s cooking skills and was amazed that her eldest didn’t protest when told that his job would be peeling the potatoes.

“It’s rather simple, mother. Sending me to go help in the kitchen was your favourite form of punishment in my childhood, which is counterproductive if you wish your child to learn to enjoy cooking. However, thanks to Susannah and Gregory, I have recently learned what a pleasant activity it can be and I have enjoyed participating in the process of preparing food ever since.”

“Oh Mikey dear, what else could I have done? Grounding a child who doesn’t leave the house other than to go to the library is hardly an effective punishment and I couldn’t take your books away, could I? So kitchen work it was.”

Sue interrupted, holding back a giggle. “I think the most interesting question here is: what did Mycroft do to get punished in the first place?”

“Can’t you imagine, dear?” Margo laughed. “Sherlock could talk Mycroft into doing almost anything for him. Stealing cigarettes and whisky from their father or hot-wiring the car to drive around, thankfully only within our own grounds. For science, of course, you know him. Once they broke into the hunters lodge to examine the weapons! Should I go on Mike, or would you rather add more examples yourself?”

“Neither, thank you mother, I believe they may have heard enough.”

“I thought as much. Well, as you can probably imagine, the boys spend some of their free time helping the cook in the kitchen with the little things, gaining no cooking skills whatsoever and I doubt they learned anything from their mistakes either. Just look what they choose to do as a living. Rather dubious business if you ask me, both of them.”

“In my case it’s called governing, mother. Although I’m not sure there is a word for what Sherlock does, other than the one he invented of course.”

“Oh My,” Greg sighed. “Don’t be so snappy, you know full well how important Sherlock’s input is – well, most of the time, and if you don’t count the insults as input.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to admit it when I don’t want to.”

Margo took the bowl of peeled potatoes away from Mycroft to slice them into the casserole. “Now, imagine both of them as little boys, pouting and bickering exactly like this whilst peeling potatoes. If you want add some mud smudges and torn clothes, especially on Sherlock, you have a perfect picture of what a normal day in the Holmes’ household looked like.”

Even Mycroft had to smile at his mother’s comment, admittedly it didn’t deviate too much from the truth and it brought back many fond memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are slowly but steadily coming to an end. Thank you all for sticking around for so long!


	13. Wherever You're Going I'm Going Your Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“He turned his face towards the full moon and found it fascinating how he technically bathed in the same light that he did during the day, only that the beams took a detour via the moon. It felt so different, even though the light had the same source and hit the same place.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! Thank you all for sticking around for so long, leaving encouraging comments and motivating kudos. 
> 
> Without my lovely Erasmus_Jones, all of this would have been impossible!

 

With Sue back in London, Greg and Mycroft spent the next day peacefully at home. They ordered take away from a little Italian place close by –which didn’t usually offer take away food but people did astonishing things when Mycroft Holmes requested it– and then retired to the living room sofa to read. After a while reading turned into cuddling and Greg closed his book, enjoying the closeness of the moment as he lay stretched along Mycroft’s side. The hand in his hair that had been massaging his scalp stilled and Mycroft dropped a kiss against his crown.

“Show me,” Mycroft said suddenly. “Show me and tell me what we would have done on your parent’s sofa had we met in our teens.”

Greg raised his head from Mycroft’s shoulder and looked at him. The provocatively raised eyebrow made Greg nod excitedly and roll on top of Mycroft, pinning him down with his weight.

“Ha, I knew you’d thought about that as well. Want me to talk dirty to you, hm?”

“It’s entirely your fault, my dear Gregory, that this particular fantasy has haunted me since the subject was broached yesterday. Make it worth my suffering, won’t you?”

“Oh you think you’re in a position to make demands? I’ll give you suffering!”

With a seductive smile Greg straddled Mycroft, his hips pressing him firmly into the sofa. He held himself up with one hand on the cushion next to Mycroft’s head and started to unbutton Mycroft’s shirt with the other, nipping softly at the skin he exposed.

He didn’t need long to think of a sexy scenario, the fantasy was very vivid in his mind.

“I’d invite this gorgeous teenage version of you over to watch a film when my parents were out and I’d put on some gory Hammer horror film.” Greg spoke in a breathy voice whilst kissing his way down Mycroft’s throat. “Something really scary, and possibly with sexy vampires, so you’d automatically shuffle closer to me and hide your face in my shoulder when something terrible happened on the screen. I’d classically put my arm around you, you know, to protect you, and you’d feel so safe in my arms and sigh a little.”

Mycroft hummed under him, clearly enjoying the fantasy and the touch of Greg’s mouth trailing soft bites and kisses over his nipples and further down his chest. When Greg shoved the unbuttoned shirt aside, he stroked his hand lower and let his fingertips ghost over Mycroft’s stomach while he spoke deep and gentle into his ear.

“Our hands would touch in the bowl of popcorn and you’d flush beautifully at this innocent sensation. When the credits finally rolled, I’d lean over and kiss you, just like this.”

Greg kissed him, a brief, fleeting meeting of lips, and Mycroft responded a little hesitant and just as lightly.

“I’d have wanted to do that all evening and now I’d be unable to control myself any longer. I’d keep on kissing you –a little firmer now, deeper– and you’d be just as eager, you’d press yourself against me and you’d want more as well.”

Greg rolled his hips down and Mycroft let out an impatient moan, pressing his growing erection against Greg’s own.

“Hmm yes you’d be so eager for me and we’d end up like this, me on top of you, snogging messily and rutting against each other. It’d be enough friction for us, we’d both be inexperienced and afraid of my parents coming home so we wouldn’t spend any thought on drawing this out. You’d whimper and grab my arse, you’d pull me hard against you and we’d both come in our pants.”

Mycroft didn’t whimper, he groaned loudly, but then he did grab Greg’s arse. They moved against each other, more gracefully than in the fantasy, but their kisses turned wetter and sloppier by the second.

“Oh, and this?” Greg sat up on Mycroft’s thighs and worked his lover’s fly open quickly. “This, I definitely wouldn’t have done to you on my parent’s living room sofa.”

Mycroft’s helpless gasp when Greg swallowed his cock down to the base in one smooth slide made Greg’s own cock twitch and throb in his jeans. He worked his mouth up and down the shaft a few times before he pulled off to grin at Mycroft, licking his wet lips.

“For this I’d have taken you up to my room and locked the door,” Greg said before he winked at him, stripped Mycroft of his trousers and then settled down comfortably between his splayed thighs.

*

They stayed at the country house for four more days, and when Mycroft had to occasionally excuse himself to deal with some work related issues, Greg used the time for lengthy walks outside. He realised he had to take more care of himself, couldn’t let his work dominate his life anymore. It hadn’t exactly helped his first marriage and it won’t be good for his second one either. Mycroft, understood just how important his work was to him, but Greg never wanted to cause Mycroft so much worry again. They would both find a new rhythm once they got back home.

Enjoying the hot summer days, he recharged his batteries on the lawn chair in their garden where Mycroft would offer him cold drinks and massages. He felt like he had had more than just a few days off and was ready for anything that London could throw at him as soon as he got back to work.

Sue called and let them know that her maths exam went so much better than she’d thought it would, and that she had a really good feeling about it. Mycroft didn’t even try to hide his smugness about that which Greg found more than a little endearing.

It was the last night before they planned to head back home when Greg found himself standing at the open window of their bedroom. The fresh breeze from outside tickled his bare skin and sent shivers of excitement down his spine. There was something exhilarating about standing naked at an open window, even if he knew the chances someone could see him here were very low.

Unlike in London, he was able to see countless stars in the clear night sky. Some of them were slowly dancing on the surface of the pond below him in the garden. The silence was comforting but also overwhelming and he was glad Mycroft’s even breathing broke it every other second, it made him feel utterly at peace with the world.

He turned his face towards the full moon and found it fascinating how he technically bathed in the same light than during the day, only that the beams took a detour via the moon. It felt so different, even though the light had the same source and hit the same place.

After a while Mycroft stirred in his sleep, the rustling of the sheets and the slightly changed breathing pattern meant he must have woken up.

“May I ask what goes on in your thoughts right now?” Mycroft whispered almost to the point he made no sound at all, apparently aware of how sensitive one’s senses become when enjoying the silence of a night in the country.

“It feels like the stars are realigning for us,” Greg whispered back just as silently. “Everything we ever did, we did only to get where we are now. It was obviously me who took a detour via the moon, but we still ended up in the same place. I didn’t realise until now, My. I never got over the fact that you waited so long for me, I felt so guilty sometimes, but I’m beginning to understand. I’m making my peace with it right now.”

Mycroft made a small sound of happy agreement, as if he’d known all along that Greg would get to this point eventually.

“Your silver light shone so brightly, my dear. It wasn’t difficult to follow you wherever you went.”

Greg could feel Mycroft’s eyes on his back, could feel them travelling down his body affectionately, filled with love and contentment. It warmed him up from the inside, while his skin was still cold to the touch from the exposure to the night air.

He gave himself a few more moments of exposed vulnerability before he joined Mycroft in bed. It was clear to him now that one of them would always wait for the other. No matter in which directions life would lead them, they would always end up being closer to each other than they were before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of this chapter borrowed from the song Moon River by Andy Williams.


End file.
